garden
by trimurti
Summary: [FE7] Friends, lovers, and something beyond, Pent and Louise's marriage is a garden of rare and fragrant delights. Sequel to bouquet and inspired by the 30 kisses challenge. (5. first anniversary)
1. 02 - news, letter

garden

(C) Intelligent Studios and Nintendo

Dedicated to Gunlord500, who has supported me throughout my years in the FE fandom as proofreader, editor and, most importantly, a dear friend. If he hadn't helped me all those years ago in researching wedding announcements of centuries past, this serial wouldn't exist now!

-0-

01. Wedding Announcement

(_#2. news; letter_)

(The official announcement posted on every church door in the castle city of Reglay.)

Lord Pent Martel

Mlle Louise Katharina Émile

Married

Anima's Day, May tenth, AS 973

Reglay Castle

-0-

(The second item of the social index within the May 12-19 edition of the Aquleia Times; considered lesser only to a description of Queen Rosalie-Marie's dinner party in honor of her sister-in-law Queen Hellene's visit, nevertheless it contains the greatest amount of copy of all the social items for that week.)

MARTEL AND ÉMILE.

Mlle Louise Katharina Émile, daughter of Gérald Émile, Esq., and only grandchild of retired Great General Yossas Trent, Duke Mersey, of the Etrurian Army, to Commander Pent Martel, Count Reglay, son of the late Lord Klein Martel, the former Count Reglay, at noon last Anima's Day, May 10th, in Reglay Castle's personal chapel, conducted by Rev. Father Yodel. Duke and Duchess Blancmont attended as representatives for the king and queen, while Count Alloway and Count and Countess Caerleon were invited as honored guests. Although the wedding itself had been pushed back over a year due to an unforeseen extension to the bridegroom's military deployment, it was an intimate and simple affair, with only a single bridesmaid, Mlle Celia of Alloway, to attend to the bride, while the bridegroom had only his steward, Messr Raike Nachett, as his best man. The chapel was decorated with bouquets of lilies-of-the-valley, ferns, and palms. The bride was escorted to the altar by both parents, followed by her bridesmaid. The bride wore a simple white silk dress in imitation of Saint Elimine's gown as a symbol of purity and dedication, covered by a cape dyed dark blue and embroidered with House Reglay's crest in golden thread; she wore no ornaments save for a single red rose tied up in her golden hair.

-to be continued...-

I began wanting to write a theme-based serial in 2009 and even began this serial under the name _Silver and Gold_, though I only finished this story before needing to go on hiatus after finishing _bouquet_. To be honest, I never expected to write fanfiction again, but I think there's a part of me that can never quite give up. Maybe I will write more after I finish this serial, or maybe I won't even finish the 30 themes...either way, let me give you the best of what I have.

This is the sequel serial to _bouquet_. You'll have to read _bouquet_, or reread it, but I'm very proud of that serial and I hope you'll enjoy the experience.

'A single red rose': If you're wondering where the kiss was in this part, please refer to the end of the last story in _bouquet_.


	2. 25 - fence

garden

(C) Intelligent Studios and Nintendo

-0-

02. A Wife's Proper Place

(#25. fence)

It was often - as far as the word could be applied in the course of a month, at least - that when Louise woke up she was the only one awake in the house, but not today. She could hear it dimly that people were about downstairs, for while the master bedroom of the Reglay summer manor was well-built in ways not even Castle Reglay could compare with, Louise's hearing was trained over the course of years to detect the fluttering of a wing or the padded step of a rabbit so that she would not come home empty-handed for a special supper with her beloved mother and father and any guests that might be by. She listened now to the steps of the few servants of the manor, the tones of their chatter, and felt a deep pang of loss though all she had done was gain.

But today was the last day of her honeymoon. By the evening she would be properly ensconced in Castle Reglay, this time not with her mother nor Celia - this time as Countess Reglay.

Was it so strange to fear this? Louise had never been more than a miss, a _mademoiselle_, a lady, but now she was entitled in all the meanings of the word.

_What a strange thing you are doing to worry so_, she could hear sweet Celia's voice speak in the inner chambers of her mind. _You are not alone._

The thought urged the welcome feeling to look beside her, where Lord Pent lay, still sleeping soundly. She longed to touch his upturned face (for usually one side of it was deep into his pillow), to admire the sight of his smooth jawline or his parted, tender lips...in essence, to revel in his beautiful masculinity at a time when he couldn't take notice, quirk up one of his light eyebrows, and begin to tease her until she felt compelled to start her archery practice hours ahead of time. But that was the Lord Pent she had known since she was a girl of fourteen, kind and compassionate, generous and thoughtful, intelligent and perhaps a little vexing, and always, always with a slight shadow of loneliness to his lovely eyes. It was this last thought that had Louise sitting up, letting the thin coverlet pool on her lap as she leaned over and kissed him at the corner of his mouth. He didn't react, not even when she pulled away, but she imagined he could feel that he was not going to be lonely anymore, because she knew the strength of her feelings were as pure and strong as a bowstring drawn with all her might and she was never ever going to let go.

Smiling to herself now, Louise left their bed and moved, with no little stealth, out of their room and into the room next door, which had been kept for her to dress and prepare her toilet in. Without Celia it was that much lonelier, but Celia had kept to her last duty in preparing Louise's trousseau back at Castle Reglay and to teaching Louise's new maid Sophie how best to serve her new mistress. Louise had already received Celia's letter that all this had been done, and now Celia would now put on a sister's vestments and cloister herself as a cleric of the Elimine Church. Though Louise was truly happy for her sister of her heart, a part of her always hurt now to think of Celia separated from her, and for a moment all she could do was sit at her bureau, eyes closed and hands clasped, and think of nothing at all.

Soft footfalls caught her attention, and when she opened her eyes she could see, through her mirror, that Lord Pent was approaching with a curious look on his face. "If you wanted to sleep, you could do it just as well in the bed, Louise," he said, stopping behind her chair and giving her a look through her mirror. Louise smiled slightly at the sight he presented in her mirror, with his storm-gray hair mussed and even sticking up in one or two spots.

"It's a little strange to see you awake so early," she said, smiling more widely when he gave her that familiar look of amusement.

"I was awakened by a kiss, I think," Lord Pent commented with a lightness to his tone as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed the crown of her head. "There are stories where that happens, correct?"

The thought of Lord Pent casually enjoying a child's storybook just as well as any number of his heavy tomes on magical theory caused Louise to giggle. "Do you know them, then? The prince wakes the princess with a kiss, and then they live happily ever after."

"The 'happily ever after' is fine, but I think I would make a poor princess," he said with a smile. Louise giggled harder at this; the portrait of his mother in the foyer of Castle Reglay suggested otherwise, though she would never tell him that. "It is a little strange to be awake so early," he continued, the fingers of one hand playing with the ends of her loose hair. Louise placed her hand on his, stilling it.

"Are you going to go for your walk, Lord Pent?"

He looked a little discomfited by this suggestion, it seemed to her. "I wasn't thinking of it, not on our last day here. I suppose we should be ready to make sure that we don't inconvenience the castle with our return."

A little bit of surprise sparked in her mind at the thought. "Oh, even though we're only about an hour or so away? I mean, we're to arrive by evening, I thought."

He looked at her through the mirror, and what caught her about his gaze was not the beauty of his eyes but the emotion playing within them. "Maybe we should extend our honeymoon. We still had to spend half of it in Aquleia, what with the king's congratulations and your introduction to the court. I don't feel as though we've spent enough time together."

Louise understood full well his feelings, though they had spent nearly every waking hour together once they had arrived at the manor. Perhaps it was because they had spent so much time separated due to the ill acts of others, but she longed to be with him whenever they were apart during the honeymoon, and was excessively jealous of the time they spent together. He had never said anything so strongly about this perceived lack of time together until now, and Louise was both thrilled with his admission and sadder still that they could not simply do as they liked.

"Mm...but we must go back. The date was fixed since before we left, and there is so much work for you to do..." she argued in a most reluctant fashion. "It wouldn't be kind to Master Raike or anyone else to delay our return."

She thought she noticed Lord Pent look dissatisfied by her explanation, but before she could let him know that she felt exactly the same as he did he was already loosening his embrace. "I suppose you're right," he said in a mild tone, so mild that she immediately disliked it, just as much as she disliked his hand removing itself from her hair. The mirror was showing them as separate figures, and that brought to her mind an extreme dislike because for too long indeed they had been separated.

"Lord Pent," she said as he was beginning to leave the room, "I believe you're forgetting something."

He turned to look at her, and in return she looked away from her mirror and demurely lifted her chin and closed her eyes, so that he could not fail to grasp her meaning. She heard him chuckle at this, as well as his approaching footsteps. "How could I have forgotten?" he said in his teasing lilt. There was the soothing touch of his hand; first his fingers brushing against her cheek, then his palm cupping her face with such tenderness that it was nearly unbearable. And then his breath on her lips, followed by his own, and Louise marveled, as she always seemed to, at the delicate sweetness of that first emotion that always bloomed at Lord Pent's kiss, for although they were still discovering the full array of charms of the marriage bed there was something so nice and honest about a kiss. This was especially true now, for while Louise had held no ulterior motives before, somehow she found herself on her feet and locked tight in his embrace the next time she opened her eyes.

With one of his hands rubbing up and down her back, wrinkling her silken summer _chemise de nuit_ against her skin, while the other arm held her close, Lord Pent murmured, "It's better to stay in, wouldn't you agree?" Louise did, with a soft sound of assent, and she felt as much as she heard his answering chuckle of amusement.

"Lord Pent?"

"Hm?"

She closed her eyes and let herself be as bold as she liked. "Since it's still early, I think we should go back to bed."

"I did say that earlier," Lord Pent said, real warmth in his teasing words. Louise intended to tease him back with a pout, but he leaned in to kiss her again too soon for that action, and that was all she had really ever wanted, anyway.

-0-

Pent was not used to being happy for an extended amount of time, but since it was Louise's fault he supposed he would just have to bear it.

Despite his complaints to her earlier, he hadn't minded their Aquleia excursion too much, though there was the awkwardness of sleeping in the palace when their wedding had only been days before. Traveling with Louise was fun because, like now, he viewed it as an exercise to see how quickly they would shed propriety and sit in a style more comfortably suited to newlyweds (he imagined). This time she had almost immediately placed herself in his arms, though this might have been more because she had intended to doze for the hour-long trip back to the castle. He didn't mind, not when he had a book to occupy himself, but he still found himself distracted by the softness of her golden hair. Even tied back like it was, it was impressively smooth to the touch. Then there was the fringe of hair that feathered her forehead, as light and delicate as strains of anima magic. Despite the fact that he hadn't conversed with the spirits yet today, he felt as he did when he was communing with them - even in this dark box of a carriage and the grinding bumps of the country roads jolting them every so often.

He let his hand wander from her hair to tracing a path around her earlobe, wondering how it could be so easy to touch another person. Due to his upbringing he had never thought to be physically affectionate; learning to do so now under Louise's guidance could still make him nervous. In the summer manor when it was just them for long stretches of time it was easy to reach for her, but the castle was a different place. He was his own man, he thought, but when faced with nearly a thousand years of birthright and ceremony and duty he felt as though his will was being drained from him.

But Louise was different. She had been raised with love and care, and in return she shone with a brightness that rivaled the sun - or the first star when evening had just fallen. Because of this, Pent did not want her to be burdened with all the duties there must be for a Countess Reglay just yet, not in full...but he didn't know how to do this. It seemed the last few months leading to the wedding was a blur of activity, and only now was he giving it serious thought. The most necessary component to a successful plan of attack was knowledge...

There was a jolt as the carriage ran over a particularly large rock, and Louise stirred in his arms. Stroking her face seemed to calm her, but when Pent brushed aside the curtain covering the window on the door he saw that they were nearing the gates of the castle town. Apprehension gripped him for a moment before his normal reason replaced it - _what are you worrying about, it will be fine, we can make it fine_ - and gently roused Louise from her nap. "We're almost there," he said in a quiet voice close to her ear, and smiled as she opened her eyes. She looked wonderingly up at him for a moment before reason seemed to reach her, and she sat up.

"Mm...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep," she said as she touched her face, her fingertips making indentations at her cheekbones.

"No, it's fine," Pent replied, returning to his book. "That was my fault, anyway."

He waited a moment for her to work out his meaning and react, which she did with an audible gasp, before he glanced at her. Even with her head turned away there was a visible redness to her cheeks that her hair couldn't hide for once, and he couldn't help but smile at her shyness. That smile probably didn't help things when she glanced at him, judging by the way she pursed her lips. "Lord Pent, why are you so..."

"My apologies," he said, putting his book down on his lap to give her the full force of his attention. "That was uncalled for. I would hate for my own wife to think I were a vulgar blackguard or the like..."

Louise was looking at him, her eyes uncommonly large; the vivid lavender color was so perfect in the relative darkness of the carriage that his own thoughts seemed to spiral away into so much mist. "I wonder...I think it is me - my problem," she said, her voice as clear and soft as her words were confused. "Maybe it is because of the way I was raised, or are men so different as to...?" She looked down and Pent, who would not ever accuse himself of extra sensitivity to the moods of others, saw something like defeat in her profile.

He didn't know what she needed, but she always seemed to appreciate his touch, so he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Louise, steady yourself. We can talk about anything, but first I need to be able to understand what you mean." After he said these words, he wondered if she would think them condescending, particularly when she seemed so fragile. Instead, they seemed to have the desired effect, as she looked up at him again.

"Lord Pent, are men raised so differently so that they can speak frankly about matters of...of physical intimacy?"

Memories rose from the depths of his mind, unbidden, of the discussions he was party to during their time in Aquleia, when the men and women had split off into separate groups, separate rooms. Things about the _demimonde_, kept women, the prices of women of certain houses, and so on. He had never thought himself particularly straitlaced, but it was also true that he had lived an odd life for a nobleman, and as such had never really needed to consider such things. Being engaged to marry at sixteen probably hadn't helped. So he conceded: "Perhaps a few. But I wasn't, and so -"

"I'm out of sorts, I think," Louise said with a quickness that surprised him. "I'm not really bothered, but I'm...uncomfortable still..."

_What does that mean?_ he wondered. Out loud he said, "If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know." To this, Louise smiled fondly at him, which made him feel as though whatever she was bothered about was a temporary, small thing. If it were important, she would tell him...but he still felt like reassuring her. "I know you lived at the castle before, but it may feel a little overwhelming at first. If there's anything you want to do that would make it more comfortable for you, do it." Pent put his arm around her shoulders. "I would like to see what effect you'll have on that stuffy place."

"Lord Pent, you mustn't say that about your own home!" Louise chided him, though she was grinning. "I'd like to put more flowers in the rooms, though. Wouldn't that be so very refreshing?"

Pent returned her smile. "It could use as much freshening up as you can give it, yes." Louise looked as though she was going to say something to that, but the carriage stopped. "It looks like we're here," he said, and removed his arm from her. There was a sudden flash of something strange in Louise's eyes, but before he could inquire the door to the carriage was being opened and Pent was moving so that he could help Louise out. What he noticed after he had done so was that his steward Raike was there, along with a green-haired woman he didn't immediately recognize.

"Lord Pent, Lady Louise, welcome back," Raike said, stepping forward. "Lady Louise, my wife is at your service to help with the unpacking, since I hear you like to do it yourself."

"Amy!" Louise cried out, reaching out to embrace the taller woman, who lightly hugged her back with one arm; the other, Pent noticed, was gripping a walking stick. The two of them separated, Louise chattering as they headed towards the castle.

Pent looked at Raike. Though it had only been a month, the other man looked a great deal more tired than Pent remembered, which didn't bode well for the amount of work surely waiting for him. As a way to stave off the paperwork for a few more minutes, Pent commented, "That is your wife?"

Raike stared at him, the telltale red blotches signifying to Pent that his steward was now somewhat perturbed. "You've met her before," Raike said in a dry tone, "though I suppose you probably don't care about any woman but your wife at the moment."

Taking this in stride (he'd gotten used to hearing such things before, on the Western Isles, and it wasn't untrue at any rate), Pent began to follow Louise's path into the castle. "How much work do you have for me? I'd like to be able to eat dinner with Louise."

"I don't think one day without would kill you, milord," Raike said as he caught up with Pent. "As long as it doesn't mean that you'll end up neglecting your main duty now."

"My main duty?"

Raike's face was extraordinarily clear of any telltale color. "An heir...?"

For a moment Pent was strongly annoyed, but when he went to examine that strange emotion it had already fled. "We're working on that," he said with unusual shortness, because the memory of the annoyance, though not the emotion itself, was still playing in his mind. He did feel a little bad about taking that sort of tone with his steward and friend, and added in a friendlier tone, "These things take time."

To this, Raike laughed, though to Pent it sounded a little harsh. "You would be surprised."

-0-

"Lady Louise, you look very happy."

Louise started, glancing at her dear friend Amy and was mesmerized, as always, by the older woman's mature beauty. Not for the first time did she wonder if all pegasus knights had such clear, pale skin and deliberate, graceful movements; though Amy herself walked with a noticeable limp, even the tilt of her head while listening to Louise's stories seemed elegant yet perfectly unpracticed. "Ah, do I?" Louise wondered aloud, touching her face with one hand. "Of course I am, but is it so obvious?"

"I would hope so for a newlywed bride," Amy replied, her pale lips forming a small smile. "I'm sure your lord husband is doing his very best to make you happy, am I correct?"

There was warmth at Louise's cheeks now, and not even her hand could suffice in cooling her face to a more normal temperature. "Lord Pent is so wonderful. He indulges me in anything I please and says that my smile is the only reward he desires...although I think he was teasing me at the time." Laughing now, Louise clapped her hands. "He was even so good as to take me out hunting, though he's only done it before as a need and not a pleasure. I caught two rabbits and we ate out on the grounds as though we were camping!"

Amy was still smiling, but Louise thought it seemed a little strained. "You went out hunting on your honeymoon?"

"Oh, not so far that it would cause trouble. And besides, there are only a couple of servants at the summer manor and I thought it would be good of them to take the day off and relax," Louise hastened to say, before another memory bubbled up in her mind. "Lord Pent made a fire too. I thought magical fire would be different, but I suppose it all burns the same. At night we went to commune with the nature spirits, and although I couldn't see them it was obvious by his face that they are dear friends of his."

"Aha...and here I thought you two would just spend whole days in bed," Amy said with a wicked smile. The combination of the words and the expression seemed to form a razor-sharp knife that aimed for Louise's vitals, and though there was no physical pain it had struck her faint all the same.

"...Is it so strange not to like that?" Louise asked. Inside her heart of hearts was something more strongly worded: I do not think that all the meaning of a wife begins and ends with the body. There are so many things we can do together now that we are wedded; that is just a mere one of many.

There seemed to be hesitance now on Amy's face, her steel-gray eyes laced with some fine emotion that Louise could not understand. "I mean...I'm sure you understand the importance of having a child as soon as possible. Even if you don't like it, at the very least you need to endure."

"Hm? But I do want to have a family," Louise said with no small sense of confusion behind her words. "What would I have to endure for that sake?"

"Oh...I think I misunderstood. Please don't worry about it." Tossing back her long, forest-green hair, Amy gestured down the hall they were walking in, towards Lord Pent's room. "Your rooms are over here, Lady Louise."

_My rooms?_ Louise repeated to herself. _Our rooms, does she mean...?_

But no, the door Amy took her to was not that to Lord Pent's rooms, which she had seen only once before and of which she had such a strong impression; worse still, the appearance of a bed was clear enough evidence that Louise was meant to lay her head here. She could not believe it, because she had spent a month beside Lord Pent from morning to night - now what did this mean for those sweet spring days? Were they meant to be nothing more than an illusion to keep her compliant, or was she expected to carry an heir by the end of their honeymoon? It truly struck her to the core, for her own parents had always shared a single room, a single bed.

Wasn't that natural for a husband and wife?

The hand on her shoulder startled her, because for a second she had wanted it so much to be Lord Pent's hand, reassuring her that everything was fine. However, she was too familiar with his touch to fool herself for any longer. "Lady Louise, is something wrong?"

Louise almost wanted to shout, but it would have been unkind. "I thought Lord Pent and I would be sharing a room."

"From what I understand, traditionally the count and countess have separate rooms," Amy said. Louise did not want to look at her friend, because she knew her face was twisted and frightening like the emotions roiling inside her now and she did not want to expose Amy to that. She could only clasp her hands in front of her, grateful now that she kept her nails short for archery practice.

"And I...I am not allowed to visit Lord Pent?"

The hand on her shoulder was gone now; Louise felt as if she had been abandoned to the frightful cold of her confusion. "Lady Louise, it's by the lord's pleasure how often he should visit his wife." The troubled quality in Amy's voice now changed into something altogether too bright. "Besides, it's not always a pleasant thing to share one's bed with another. I'm sure you'd come to appreciate this arrangement more, because you'll find how much you value your time alone."

"...Of course," Louise said, her voice as distant to her ears as Alloway was from Reglay. "Thank you, Amy. I did not know."

"Please, it's fine. I'm here to help you adjust in your role as Countess Reglay, since my husband thought you'd need it." The hand was back, squeezing Louise's shoulder for a moment before letting go. "Why don't you take some time in getting used to your room while I send Sophie here?"

To this, Louise turned around, remembering something little, something distracting. "Ah, about the clothing from my honeymoon -"

Amy shook her head. "The laundry maids will take care of that. Just relax." With a smile, she granted what seemed to be her first real words of kindness - no matter how unkind it was for Louise to think in that manner, the thought still lingered. "I'm glad you're back, Lady Louise."

Despite her new, sudden ambivalence, Louise still remembered her fondness for her friend. "Thank you, Amy."

It was only after the door closed behind Amy that Louise felt willing enough to take in the small and large details of her new room. Easily as great in size as her room and her parents' room at her childhood home drawn together, it was a room whose theme was of the most supreme comforts. Luxury abounded; there was the four-post bed whose head was against one wall and seemed to shimmer with the robin's egg blue silk coverlet and the many pillows and cushions, all in different shades of blue and white, piled on the bed as if to deter anyone from actually using it; there were the great Etruscan glass windows, covered by spiderweb-delicate lace curtains, that doubled as clear doors that led to a small balcony; there was the warm-wooded chaise lounge, its cushions also in shades of blue and the occasional white, that stood proudly on top of an indigo rug with the most elaborate embroidery of white, silver, and gold in a style that Louise was unfamiliar with but thought her mother could surely identify; there was the rosewood panel that stretched around the perimeter of the room, on which a relief of different scenes played out under her touch moreso than her eyes; there was, below the panel, vertical lines of dark blue and ivory white, one after another, while above the panel was a strange 'paper' (the best description Louise could think of after touching it) colored a cool, blustery blue that covered the walls and the ceiling; there was the writing table and its matching chair, the tea table and its matching chairs, all the same caramel-colored wood, all crafted by an exquisite hand or an entire workshop of them.

There was so much, and none of it felt like it belonged to a room Louise would've ever decorated by her own hand.

The reason for that mystery was cleared when she found a letter at the writing desk, her name printed on it in Celia's careful hand. Louise opened it with little care and read:

_Dearest Louise,_

_When you arrive, I am sure you will be troubled by the state of the room; in truth, not more than I am. Sophie and I were told that nothing should be changed from its original appearance due to the fact that the former Countess Reglay had decorated it to her exacting demands. We were told that it would be a disgrace were we to do anything, because it was to be expected that you would have to appreciate the care that had gone into its transformation all those years ago, and that these colors and decorations fit the Reglay tradition more than your own favorite colors. I thought that fighting any further would harm not only your reputation but also do harm to Sophie, who will be staying on as your lady's maid as per your instructions. As it were, we were lucky to be able to save all the contents of your trousseau, so at least you will have that much comfort._

_I do not seek to question your marriage to Lord Pent, who I find to be entirely who I would want to be at your side for the whole of your life, but rather that I must question the loyalty of the household staff to you and your affairs. I know we had thought we had reached a sort of rapprochement with them, but now I must withdraw that judgment. Please be careful, my sister, and please know that you are always in my heart. If you ever need me I will be serving at the little church. Even if you do not need me, I would like it if you would still write to me whenever you like. I cannot say I understand what a countess' duties must be, but we both must work hard so we can be proud of our achievements. May Saint Elimine's light guide your way._

_Your soeur du coeur,_

_Celia_

As if drifting, Louise managed to sit down at the writing desk, the letter still clenched in her hand. The urge to cry was red-hot along her eyes, her face, her heart, but she could not allow it. What could tears solve? She was now Louise Katharina Martel, Countess Reglay, and it fell upon her to continue to nurture her hard-won happiness while keeping sadness at bay. But when she lifted her eyes and found the sight of an unfamiliar room still greeted her with a mocking, cold silence, a room she was expected to inhabit in keeping with House Reglay's traditions of lordship and ladyship and the interactions therein, traditions so radical in difference from the warmth of her parents' marriage, her heart ached.

Her heart truly ached.

There was the sound of the door opening, and Louise turned her head and saw Sophie, sweet Sophie, fairly bound into the room. "Lady Louise, you're back! You look so pretty and mature...it really feels like you've been away for a long time," Sophie said in a burst of genuine cheer, then a look of concern crossed her face as she drew nearer to Louise. "Is something wrong? You look tired..."

Louise giggled, deciding not to burden her young lady's maid. "It's been a long day. I think I'll rest a little before I dress for dinner."

"Oh! Um..." Sophie began to fidget. "I don't believe there will be dinner, since I was told to tell you that the count won't be able to come down for it. There was a lot of work piling up that only he can do, so the steward said he couldn't leave."

"Oh," was all Louise could find it in herself to say. "Oh, of course. Lord Pent only studied for the papers he was going to write. He forbade any work to be brought to the mansion. Th-then, I'll have dinner in my rooms, something small. I shouldn't put anyone out."

Sophie shook her head with a vigor that only a girl in the full bloom of her teenage years could muster - Louise thought she knew enough about that, being only seventeen herself. "If Milady wants to eat, then you should eat anything you like! The cooks like you well enough for that!"

"Louise, please," Louise corrected mildly. "But I thank you for looking out for me...Celia asked you to, I believe?"

"I really like Miss Celia, just as I really like you, Lady Louise," Sophie said, her smile wide and uninhibited, "but I don't need to be told to do a job I was already going to do. I'll make sure you're happy and well because I'm yours."

There was now sadness in Louise's heart, equal in amounts to her happiness. She bade Sophie to come nearer with a movement of her hand and a smile, then wrapped her arms around Sophie's small shoulders. "I'm so grateful for your feelings, Sophie. Let's remain friends for all of our days here, all right?"

-0-

It was a few hours past the time Pent had to light the lamp at his desk when he finally finished signing, stamping, and sealing the paperwork Raike had left out for him. It was also by that time that Pent realized he hadn't eaten, that he hadn't been offered food, and thus assumed the whole thing was his steward's revenge for having gone out and had fun - hardly fair, as one should assume as such in the case of a wedding. Deciding that he wouldn't complain too much to Raike, who had surely been neglecting his family for the last month, Pent gathered up the paperwork and left his office. Down the hall from his office was the room where the clerks of the castle worked, and inside there was a room that led to Raike's personal office. It was especially easy to find tonight because light spilled into the greater room from the open door.

With something of a smile (Louise had him practice when she saw how strained he was interacting with the other nobles at the palace), Pent walked into the steward's office. "This is the last of it. Now I don't expect anything else to need my attention, so I think I'll finally get my dinner," he said as pleasantly as he could manage for the moment. Raike, his dark red hair hanging into his eyes, looked at Pent with an expression so odd that it gave Pent pause.

"But you already ate, milord."

Pent thought about it and could only recall paper. "When?"

"...At six-thirty," Raike said slowly. Now Pent remembered a shape that resembled food, but he also remembered how...inadequate the portions were.

"I thought that was afternoon tea."

Raike now looked moderately flustered, the light of the room highlighting the subtle rise of the blotches on his face. "That was your dinner. You've always eaten the same portions before."

Before Louise, perhaps. Nodding, Pent made to turn away. "Has Louise eaten yet? Perhaps it's not too late for us to share a meal."

"Lady Louise is in her rooms now, I believe."

Pent paused for a moment. "Her rooms?"

"Your mother's former apartment."

"...I see."

Later, as he strode down the hall where the family quarters were, Pent tried not to admit to himself that he was a little - more than a little - dissatisfied. He'd thought that they would continue their living arrangement as it had been throughout their honeymoon, but it was true that his parents had kept separate rooms. Be it far for him to comment on his deceased parents' relationship, but he did think that he and Louise had a very different one, though both began out of the same silly affair of the 'bridal contest'. Honestly, he hoped that his own son wouldn't require such a spectacle in order to find a wife.

As far as he knew, married couples lived in a variety of ways. In this, Pent was willing to accede to Louise's wishes; she would need some time to adjust to living in the castle with her new status, and having a place of her own would make her more comfortable. Their living arrangements were not set in stone.

He was calm again by the time he reached the door to her rooms, pausing only a moment before he knocked. A small voice calling for her nighttime visitor to wait came from the other side of the thick door. Imaging Louise scurrying to and fro in getting prepared was enough to bring a sincere smile to his lips before she opened the door, the glow of the lantern in her hand reflecting the same warm color of her loose hair. With a shapeless dressing gown thrown over the thin, violet nightgown she liked to wear (in Etruscan she called it a chemise de...newt, was it? Pent wondered for a single moment), she looked like the effortlessly charming girl he had the pleasure of getting to know over the course of the last three years. Her wide smile as she looked up at him only reinforced this thought - _I could never have found a better woman to marry._

"Lord Pent," she said, her tone affectionate. "You're finally finished?"

He smiled. "I am. Have you had dinner yet?"

"Yes, a few hours ago..." Her bright gaze lowered as a strange expression crossed her face. "I'm sorry, should I have waited for you?"

"No, no, I ate at my desk," he said with a certain lightness meant more to cheer her than convey the truth; he couldn't remember eating, but he supposed he must have. Perhaps getting used to the portions he had taken before his wedding, a stint at the extravagant dinners at the palace, and bearing witness to Louise's catalog of recipes would be a good idea for his waistline, though not his sense of taste. "Besides, I know that you like to be in bed early. You were often disturbed by the palace's nightlong balls and galas," he continued. "You needn't wait for me when it disrupts your schedule."

Louise looked at him, her expression oddly contrite considering that Pent felt it was a minor issue. "I'll try to wait in the future. It's good to eat together."

"All right," he said, touching her hair, then stroking the side of her face. Everything about her conveyed a sense of softness that belied the depths of her convictions. Touching her more and more allowed him to embrace this seeming contradiction. Seeing how she closed her eyes as she reached up with her free hand to take his hand, this was more evident than ever.

Ah, the things he wanted and the things he needed never so closely eclipsed themselves as they did now.

He looked beyond her into the room. It looked the way he had always remembered it, from the days his mother languished in her illness, and that one thought was enough to disengage him from the moment and leave him feeling almost chilled.

"Louise," he said, moving in closer to kiss her forehead before moving back, "I'll let you get some sleep. We'll have at least dinner together if I don't wake for breakfast."

Smiling as she looked downward, Louise gave a weak giggle. "You don't like to wake early, do you? Then, I'll see you tomorrow in the evening, at least."

"Yes," he responded, and with one last ineffable look, Louise closed the door. Pent stared at the door for a moment before shaking his head - what was he so disappointed about, they still lived in the same hall - and making his way to his rooms at the end of the hall.

It was lonely there, but Louise was no longer counties or bodies of water away. What a sad thing to be disturbed by, the distance between two rooms.

-end-

Everyone doing well? Here's some good news: _garden_ will begin a biweekly schedule starting January 4th! I managed to finish the fifth story in the time frame I set for myself to decide whether it was feasible to move to biweekly updates. This surprised me, but I guess it helped that I had changed around some themes to better fit the story I want to write about Pent and Louise. Basing a story around another's themes is really an interesting experience.

Besides that, I've also been doing research on a great many things, such as what rooms in a castle would look like, appropriate clothing for the time period (especially difficult because it's hard to understand what a noblewoman would wear in the various FE games outside of traveling clothes or battle wear. I just might kill for a full-body picture of Queen Hellene...), traditions of nobility, and how to better fit all that into what I imagine Etruria's culture to be amongst the high nobility. Currently I'm reading a book called _To Marry an English Lord_, which is more about the culture of English nobility in the late Victorian/Edwardian eras, but it's still quite helpful. I don't really care for going the straight medieval route with Elibe, sorry.


	3. 24 - good night

garden

(C) Intelligent Studios and Nintendo

-0-

03. All the Colors of the Night

(#24. good night)

She had been dozing when she felt Lord Pent move, but Louise didn't dare open her eyes until she felt his lips on her forehead. "Mn...Lord Pent?" she mumbled.

"Shh, go back to sleep," she heard his voice murmur, but with the drawn curtains and the new moon beyond them, she could barely make out more than the shape of his lean body. The bed shifted as he removed himself from it, and she watched his dark form pick up his clothes from the chaise lounge, where he always left them, and begin to dress. There was nothing exciting about this; indeed, there was always a sense of finality in the reverse of his actions from when he entered her room that filled within her mind a noxious fog of self-loathing. Despite that, she always watched. When he slipped on his dressing robe she closed her eyes, because sometimes he would turn to look at her as if expecting something - but what more could she offer him? Not even when the summer full moons had illuminated the room could she fully see his expression. Perhaps he had none at all.

He was always quiet when he left the room. This time was no different. And so, in the silent darkness of the room, she was always left to wonder if she had only been in the grip of a powerful dream.

-0-

When Pent didn't visit his wife at night, it was usually because he was researching; he had written a paper that had been rejected due to insufficient analysis, so he was currently working on edits he had solicited from his former professors back at Pére Magie. It was tedious work however much he loved researching the different magic systems, and because it could only be done after the day's work of being an attentive count, he found himself working by lamplight long into the night. As summer began to taper off into the harvest season of early autumn and his paper still refused to be finished, he had started to consider going to his office to work on it even on nights after leaving Louise, which admittedly sounded like a terrible idea.

This night he had only kissed Louise goodnight after dinner together, so his mood was well-moderated as he returned to his office to continue the edits. Perhaps an hour in he heard a knock at his door. It was odd for him to receive guests at night, as Raike finally worked at normal hours again and Louise liked to sleep early, so it was with a bit of curiosity when he called out, "Come in!"

Nestor came in, but what made Pent raise an eyebrow was the tea tray balanced on one of the former mercenary's broad hand. "What's this?" Pent asked, leaning forward on his elbows; novelties were his hidden weakness, and he had been over-thinking his last paragraph anyway.

"Tea," Nestor said, approaching the desk with all the quiet grace of...well, of Nestor. Their ordeal on the Western Isles was not one easily forgotten by any of those who had survived it, and Pent could still easily recollect even his men's quirks, small and large. Light-footed and experienced, Nestor had been like a shadow to Pent during their troop's abandonment by the exiled former knight general. He was also maddeningly stoic, which was why Pent was now quite interested in his friend's visit.

"Thank you," Pent said as Nestor set up the tea, taking the cup that was offered to him. "I must admit this is a surprise."

Shrugging, the other man waited until Pent had a sip before drinking his own tea. "I notice your lights when I do my rounds. This time I decided to visit."

The sincerity in Nestor's straightforward manner truly touched Pent. "You should visit more often, then. The company would be well-appreciated."

"You're working."

"Not on official business, if that's what you're worried about," Pent said, slightly smiling. "It's my...well, more than a mere hobby. This is the only time of the day I can work on my research."

Nestor seemed to consider this, as he left his tea untouched while Pent finished his cup and refilled it. "Two nights a week?"

Pent coughed at this, thankful for the low light to hide his warming face. "There are other things I like to attend to. Anyway, how are you enjoying it here? It's been, what, nearly a year since you began to work here? Granted, we had to recover the castle first, but you've really taken to your duties from what I've seen."

Though the way Nestor shrugged seemed nonchalant, Pent thought the older man was actually pleased by his words. "Safer than being a mercenary. Nice to have roots again, a house. The castle city is more lively than the villages."

"I'm glad to hear that," Pent said, touched. "Louise mentioned that you always chaperone her whenever she leaves the castle by herself, even though that isn't your duty. I suppose I could just make the job title official, and knight you while I'm at it."

Nestor's silence seemed deeper than his usual taciturnity, if the length of it was any indication. "A common mercenary, a knight?"

"You aren't really a mercenary anymore, though I appreciate your skills. You've been a soldier both to Etruria as well as Reglay. Why not accept the rewards that come with loyal service?"

The silence stretched for a while, in which time Pent had managed another cup and Nestor moved on to a second. "I have no reason to decline. Others will say it is undeserved."

"And how do you feel about it?" Pent asked. Nestor sighed, a puff of released tension.

"Strange. Will you be okay?"

"I _am_ Count Reglay," said Pent, and as soon as he did a feeling of chagrin skittered inside him; even when he was working on his life's first passion, his title superseded that. It annoyed him because he thought himself as more than his blood-right, but when it came down to it everything he had achieved was due to this nebulous noble quality that enriched him and made him more than most. Personally he had never felt enriched by it, only by the magic power he bore, or by Louise's presence, or to be friend and helper to others. Though he had discovered pride for his noble duty in the years since his father had passed away, he still believed it could never be the whole of him compared to these treasures.

But to others, it was the world...wasn't it?

"I am Count Reglay," Pent repeated, "and I'll be fine, thank you."

-0-

When she was asked to, Louise would visit with the wives, sisters, and daughters of the city nobles and gentry by carriage on a weekday afternoon, usually for afternoon tea, then take walks along the city streets afterward. At these times either Amy would be at her side, or Sir Nestor would stalk behind her as she window-shopped, talked to shopkeepers and little children, and tried to find it in herself a feeling of being at home. Though she had lived here for months upon months while trying to protect Lord Pent's name and heritage, those had been tiring times for her; no real pleasure had been gained as she stumbled from one embarrassing meeting to another. Now, as Countess Reglay, she found that she commanded, if not respect, then a desire to please from the blue-blooded denizens of the castle city, but she had still not found true and pure friendship.

But it was not as if she were unhappy. Celia's responses to her letters were slow but sincere, Amy was a lovely companion, and Sophie was charming and sweet. And then there was Lord Pent...

She glanced at him now, admiring his profile as discreetly as she could while his attention was riveted to the stage below. On one of her walks she had discovered a playbill for what Lord Pent had once told her was his favorite musical, and brought it to his attention at dinner. Since he was often very busy she hadn't wanted to interfere with his duties, but this time Louise could not but help to encourage the idea of an outing; thankfully, he was quite agreeable to the suggestion. Of course, Lord Pent was always agreeable, but she could sense real enthusiasm from him this time. Added to this was the pleasant figure he made in his elegant attire, and the admiring glances he gave to her evening dress, its color that of a dark rose and her shoulders almost completely bare once she had removed her fur-lined velvet cape - though the neckline itself was only moderately daring, no matter that it was sparsely studded with small diamonds that sparkled in the light. She loved seeing his eyes light up with undisguised pleasure, because it was so very nice to be looked upon in such a way.

His glance at her interrupted these thoughts of hers, though she only smiled at him when he turned to look at her full-face. "Am I more interesting than the stage?" he spoke in low tones, though he needn't have in their private box. Louise only smiled more widely at this.

"Of course you are, my dear Lord Pent," she said with an unsuppressed giggle. "I so like to spend time with you."

Lord Pent smiled, honest and open and incomparably charming, before reaching for one of her gloved hands. "I feel the same, naturally. We don't spend enough time together as is."

"But that's what makes an outing like this especially sweet, wouldn't you say?" Louise replied, running her thumb along the knuckles of his bare hand. His touch was warm enough to seep through her silk gloves despite the bracing autumn night, the gift of his magical potential. His hand was well-formed, his fingers long and graceful, and the continuing frame of her thoughts were enough to send a pleasurable shiver through her.

It seemed, though, that Lord Pent had not noticed the direction of her thoughts; in fact, he looked a little more serious than she would have liked. "If you would like, we can go out more. We've invitations enough for that."

"But you don't like it," she said in a reasonable tone. "And you have your paper that you still haven't sent off."

Now he looked mildly distressed. "Please don't remind me about it. Being away on the Western Isles for so long has degraded my writing. Lately I've been doubting whether I should bother to send it again."

"It wasn't as if you had been vacationing there," said Louise not for the first time, though she was smiling. Lord Pent had every right to his anxieties, but her total faith in his ability could not recede so easily. "Your works had been published when you were as young as fourteen, and you are so much more experienced now. Correct?"

"...Perhaps so, Louise," and though his tone was not encouraging, the smile he bestowed upon her was a treasure. "Shall we leave?"

_Is he now inspired to research again?_ Louise wondered, her feelings complex and not wholly pleasant at that. "But," she started, trying to moderate her disappointment, "wouldn't you like to finish the musical? It's your favorite."

His hand had been in hers; now, he turned it over and squeezed one of her hands. "You're my favorite," he said in tones of the deepest fondness, before an odd look crossed his face and he half-covered his face with his unoccupied hand. "Hm, that was a little..."

It was always very adorable whenever Lord Pent was verbally less reserved than he ought normally to be, because Louise knew he only ever tried to be so open to her. She wondered - what had he inspired in her? With a smile, she stood, nearly pulling him up with her. "Shall we go, then?" she murmured.

"Of course," he responded, letting go of her hand in order to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her close to him. For a long moment he held her in this way in their darkened theater box, to which Louise allowed herself the pleasure of pressing her face against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it quickened at her touch. Then he leaned his head down, so that his lips just touched the top of her ear. "Your room then, Louise?"

A flicker of something trembled in her chest, but it was not wholly pleasure, nor desire. It was a warm feeling edged with a small, quiet fear, because soon enough he would be leaving her and she would have to wonder what was so noble and good about sleeping alone, his heat fading from her body no matter how much she wrapped herself in blankets.

It surprised her; she felt like a small child jealously guarding her time with her favorite person, except she was already almost eight-and-ten and a wife too. Or did that just mean that a child's feelings and an adult's were not oceans across in distance, or even shallows-wide?

She smiled ruefully to herself, for it was such a small thing to be bothered about when Lord Pent was so attentive and gentle. "Yes, Lord Pent," she said into his chest as she closed her eyes. "Yes..."

-0-

"Milord, there is a visitor for you."

Pent started; he had been pages-deep into making his corrections on the contract drafted by his clerks for new vineyard licenses and actually making good time to be finished by dinner. Evening was coming fast, his west-facing office lit in sunset colors, but it was only now that he had been able to notice its beauty. It made him wish he could take his daily walks for communing with nature in the evening and not the morning, when he was hardly awake enough to appreciate it.

"Milord?"

He shook his head. Lately his concentration had been a fleeting thing. "Who is it?"

"Lady Jacqueline Vassey of House Seine," the footman announced grandly. Pent frowned; he had an idea why the lieutenant-general of the mage division of the Etrurian army would come to visit, and to be honest he hadn't given it too much thought about it due to his own many duties.

"I see," he said, his tone dry. "Please invite her in."

The footman, whose gray hair and mustache signified his seniority in the position and therefore must have had an advanced sense of propriety, seemed to pause. "Into the drawing room, milord?"

Oh, but it's hardly a social visit, Pent did not say. Instead, he folded his hands in front of him on his desk. "In here, if you would. And please find my wife and bring her here immediately."

There was that pause again, though this time it seemed more like the footman had flinched. "The countess is currently at the archery range. Perhaps she should be given time to prepare -"

"No need to worry about it," Pent said with a little more force than he would have preferred. "In fact, it would be more appropriate if she is in her archery attire."

Looking more than a little confused - for which Pent felt sorry for him, having to perform against his professional duty - the footman left the room. After glancing down at the contract in front of him, he decided that perhaps another day would only improve the clauses. Lately he'd been feeling as if any progressive thoughts he had about the function of certain legal mechanisms were fated to be held up by the law clerks, including his own steward, for months. He supposed change was not something to be pushed in within a day, but certainly his opinion counted for something?

"Lady Jacqueline Vassey," announced a far younger footman as he held the door open for the lieutenant-general, who wore her military uniform sans armor and with an inscrutable expression. Her dark brown hair was loose as if it were her one allowance to express her noble femininity, but Pent wondered if she didn't look more impressive when she was fully her job title than her noble one. While he and Louise were visiting during their honeymoon he remembered seeing her appear at the fetes at court on behalf of her family, a look of perpetual displeasure on her face as she stalked around in layers and yards of fine muslin and silks. Louise always looked at ease whether she wore elegant dresses or hunting gear...ah, was it terrible of him to compare other women to Louise when he would always find them lacking?

Thankfully, the lieutenant-general could not read his mind and have just cause for offense. She bowed her head to him. "Count Reglay, an honor."

"It's all mine, Lady Jacqueline," Pent said as he rose from his seat. "Please, sit."

"No, my reason for visiting is a brief one, or else I would have sent my card ahead..." She trailed off as it seemed something occurred to her, then bowed again. "Actually, if it will not take too much of your time, I would like to sit." She did so, her back straight against the backing of her chair, impressing Pent not for the first time on her military precision. Pent sat down, trying to take in as much of his visitor as possible. Other than her perfect posture and her expressionless face looking just off-center from his face, there was nothing to notice; indeed, she was making him uncomfortable the longer neither of them said anything...

"Well then," Pent said, diverting his gaze to the grain of the door past her, "I have an idea what this is about, but I don't wish to be presumptuous..."

The lieutenant-general nodded. "Yes, there is only the one thing. Regarding your recruitment, have you decided -"

The door opened. "Countess Reglay," the older footman now announced, his head bowed as Louise, endearing as ever in her simple archery outfit with a small cape over her shoulders for warmth, her quiver draped over her hip and her strung bow over one shoulder, more or less bounded into the room.

"Oh!" his wife exclaimed, a smile broadening on her lovely face as she brought one gloved hand to her lips. "Lady Jacqueline! How good of you to visit! Oh, I shall get tea ready -"

"Louise," Pent said, unable to help his own smile as his wife spun one way, then the other at the sound of his voice, her tail of blond hair flying over one shoulder to the other. "You needn't worry. I want you present for this discussion."

Louise looked curious, if her wide eyes and parted lips meant anything, but then she smiled. "All right. We can have tea after this business, then." She sat next to the lieutenant-general, adjusting her chair to face them equally before removing her bow and placing it in her lap.

"...Well then," the lieutenant-general said; Pent thought that she looked more cautious, something of equal parts confusion and suspicion in her dark eyes. "Put simply, I would like to hear your answer regarding our proposal. Your reputation has risen greatly after your ordeal on the Western Isles, and the opinions of those who served under you were generally quite high. You have showed yourself to be a capable leader, able to rise up during adversity. We would like you to continue and strengthen our military."

Pent nodded. "Yes. Against who?"

"Pardon?"

"Who are we strengthening the military against? Not the Western Isles, surely."

The lieutenant-general looked straight at him, her expression tight. "I am not privy to that information, Count Reglay."

Bewildered, Pent said, "But you are the lieutenant-general of the mage division. The only one higher is your father."

"Yes. You see, I am not the mage general. There is quite a lot of information I am not privileged to know, such as who will be the successor to the knight generalship now that it is open. Perhaps you are familiar with someone who knows more than I do on that manner." Her tone was flat, expressing a certain sardonic wit that Pent was only familiar with in himself. It was not a gratifying feeling to have it aimed at him. "In times like this, the mage division must stand more firmly to cover the weaknesses of its brother divisions. If you require enemies to fight before you can agree, then you have very little idea what it means to have a standing army."

Very quietly, Louise said, "I don't know what it means to have one."

"...Hm." At first the lieutenant-general looked stricken, as if she thought she had been rude, then her natural forthright look returned. Pent wasn't sure why until she said, "That would almost certainly have to be false, Lady Louise. You are familiar with Count Alloway, who does keep knights though his land is peaceful. No, it is because of the reputation of the count to use his army to the fullest to protect his investments that Alloway County enjoys such prosperity."

"I understand, but I do not agree," Louise replied. Pent saw that her hands were in her lap, and they were clenched tight. "Uncle Aramis is protecting his people, not investments. And it is because of those people that Alloway does well."

"A little more than well, though I'm sure you know the numbers better than I do. It is the richest county in Etruria, after all." The lieutenant-general's gaze slid to meet Pent's for the briefest of moments. "Reglay does have the greatest reputation, on the other hand. It is too bad prior counts were very free allowing the king to house titled nobles into this land, though."

_I know they're parasites too, there's no need to tell me_, Pent thought in undisguised annoyance. Out loud he said, "Let's not stray from the issue at hand. I have considered the recruitment, but I am very busy with my duties as is. And, I can't say my last stint with the army has made me interested in joining of my own volition."

"Are you sure?" asked the lieutenant-general, leaning forward with interest in her eyes. "I do not believe you. Certainly you found the corruption edifying. I as well find it instructive whenever it appears, because it strengthens my own resolve to be an incorruptible leader. In this way we inspire our soldiers to be proud of their duty and to serve their country well, for they will be treated fairly and with dignity in return. I know you wish the same. Everyone has mentioned how you treated the pegasus knights as though they were equal to our own."

Pent frowned. "They are equal, Lady Jacqueline."

"Correct. That is exactly the sort of officer I want under my command." The lieutenant-general spread her arms as she leaned back, a very deliberate gesture that Pent didn't understand. "I can bargain. What would you like?"

Pent noticed Louise was staring at him, then the bow in her lap. Well, that was why he had asked for her presence to begin with. "Louise," he started, watching her gaze snap upward to meet his, "what would you like?"

"I want to be by your side, Lord Pent," his wife said with no hesitation; he thought he would color at the twist of bright emotion inside him that was his singular reaction to her words. "May I, Lady Jacqueline?"

There was no immediate change of expression on her face. "This is an unusual request. Do you mean you wish to be placed in the archery division?" Louise smiled and shook her head at this.

"No, I wish to protect Lord Pent. I have no interest in military endeavors besides that."

Pent watched the lieutenant-general closely but could not find even a single hint as to what she was thinking. Truth be told, he was willing to join the mage division; he even believed he could do good there. However, the question of Louise had to be answered, and because of that he had delayed and tarried to provoke this response. That the lieutenant-general was able to see Louise not in her ballroom finery but as a woman skilled and ready to enter battle was a happy coincidence. Though he was not fond of the idea, it had been her bridal promise, and even years later Louise's conviction had not wavered - to be her equal, neither could his.

"I respect that you made a promise to protect your lord husband," the lieutenant-general finally said, her expression still very controlled. "I do. The logistics behind allowing you to enter our division are, as you can imagine, somewhat troublesome. Firstly, you are not a mage. Therefore, you cannot enter training sessions, which he will have to attend. Secondly, I assume you have no military experience. I am certain you have skill enough, but it is different to aim your arrows at another human being on the battlefield."

A tremor seemed to run through Louise's frame, but before Pent could say anything - insofar that he knew what to say in the first place - she pursed her lips and nodded. "But it is necessary to protect him."

Still the lieutenant-general's expression did not change; indeed, he thought he saw it harden. "If you say so. However, there is still another thing you need to consider. What if you are pregnant?"

Pent went still. They'd only been married for about half a year, and for all the talk of fulfilling his duty by having his wife bear an heir he had to admit that he simply hadn't considered that they would be having children anytime soon. He certainly hadn't been visiting Louise at night just for the sake of an heir, or even at all for an heir. Looking at Louise's blushing face, he wondered if she had been the same way, or if she was always thinking about children. Certainly she was always receptive, but they were newlyweds, and...

"We-ll, I'm not...in that condition just yet," Louise said to her lap more than the lieutenant-general. "I'm not sure what I will do when I am, but that is not now."

"Lady Louise, please." The lieutenant-general leaned towards Louise; Pent thought she looked almost friendly, in a quiet way. "You are Countess Reglay. You must think of it, and be prepared. For you, it is only a matter of when. I admire your passion in keeping your vow, but soon enough you will be a mother. So you must think..." She paused, then shook her head. "Forgive my impertinence."

"No, no," Louise replied, now smiling as she reached out and touched the lieutenant-general's knee. "I'm so very happy for your regard, and I appreciate your concern. But for now, while I am still able, please allow me to accompany my husband. I know it is an uncommon, perhaps unheard-of request, but I request it all the same."

The lieutenant-general looked to him, her face bare and white, a considering look in her eye. One side of her mouth slanted upward. "And I am certain that Count Reglay likes nothing more than the uncommon. Well, that is fine. And your answer, sir?"

Pent half-smiled; what could he possibly contest of the lieutenant-general's words? "I am yours to command, Lady Jacqueline. I'll arrange my affairs accordingly to be available when necessary. Just let me know ahead of time."

The lieutenant-general stood. "I only ask that you refer to me by my title. There are no ladies in the Etrurian army."

"All right," Pent said easily. "I only think of you as the lieutenant-general, anyway." And, by the way she smiled, revealing her even, white teeth, he knew the lieutenant-general was more pleased by such an admission than any number of recruits.

-0-

_Lord Pent has such nice hair_, Louise mused as he slept, his breathing even and slow against her chest while she ran her fingers through his hair. It was not soft, nor was it silky, but it had a fineness to it that was pleasing to the touch. It now reached his chin all around, but he was hardly going to talk to her about his hair care regiment anymore than she would him, though she hoped to see it grow even longer since it fit the shape of his face so well. And she so liked the look of it hanging down from his face when he was raised above her...

She sighed, not meaning anything by it other than the slow dissolution of tension that had drawn her body taut for a moment. Since returning to Reglay Castle, it felt as though the only time she could truly be with Lord Pent were these nights in her room, little buddings of happiness when everything in her heart craved for more. And she thought that...that she did deserve more. She could see it plainly that she was being put in her place, just another event in Lord Pent's day, and she did not like it one bit. But she knew that to demand more made her lesser in the eyes of Reglay, the monolith Reglay, that great big house of one person and thirty-thousand dependents. She knew it because sometimes she would think of plans for her and Lord Pent to be together during the daytime and Amy, who she always told these plans to, always looked so perturbed, as if even thinking these things was troublesome to him as it were!

Was she being troublesome? Was she really that much of annoyance without doing anything at all? Amy would only ever tell her to concentrate on having a child, that it was for now her great duty, but the thought of having a child right now did not have the shine that she had imagined it would have. Little doubts nagged at Louise, ones that made her wonder if she would be able to raise that child as her mother had raised her.

She pressed her face into Lord Pent's hair, holding him more tightly to her as she fought against the cold, desolate feeling creeping into her chest. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to run away, so very far away, with nothing but Lord Pent at her side. She wanted more, more, much more than this!

There was a tightening of his arm around her waist, his hand pressed against her back, as Lord Pent roused himself from his slumber. Louise pulled away from him, embarrassed now and afraid she'd disturbed him by clinging to him too much - a worrisome metaphor - but he was still holding onto her as he looked up at her, his light eyes and his sincere smile visible to her in the moonlight. "Louise?"

She tried to return his smile. "Y-yes?"

He seemed to be waiting for something, for he didn't speak at first, so Louise kissed him with all the chasteness of the maiden she once was, then drew away when he responded only minutely to this. Looking at his face afterward, she had the feeling his expression would be just as difficult to read in full daylight. "You didn't go to sleep," he said. It was an odd statement, she thought.

"No."

His expression was still clouded by more than the lack of light. "Hm," he said in a quiet tone. "You must find it difficult to sleep when I'm here."

"Lord Pent?" Louise whispered, unsure of his meaning. She understood it in full a moment later, when he began to remove himself from her.

"I am sorry," he said, before he rose to sit up in her bed. "I know you like to sleep in early, and yet I can't seem to limit my visits..."

"But why must you limit them?" Louise asked in a rush of words as she rose to sit behind him, the cold of the room clashing with her bare skin. "I like being with you. How could the amount of sleep I get be more important?"

"Well, I...I don't really know." And after that he said nothing at all, and his back was still to her and there was certainly little she could communicate with that. Out of a feeling that was as small and fragile as helplessness, Louise reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his back.

"I don't like this," she admitted in a quiet voice.

His words seemed to reverberate through his body and against hers when he asked, "What is it that you don't like?"

She closed her eyes for a moment; the darkness was very nearly the same. "How could all noble marriages turn this way and lead to happiness? You have so many duties and I am not allowed to help you or see you at all, even. I am only allowed to really be with you at this time, and only for a short while..." Louise sighed, troubled by her own words. "I don't wish to be a burden to you, but is this really what we struggled so long to meet each other again for?"

Lord Pent was turning to face her even while encircled in her arms, so reluctantly she loosened her embrace. In response, he put his arm around her shoulders. "I see," he said, his tone odd but she could not see the details of his face to discover the reason for herself. "I do apologize. I'm not quite familiar with how an ideal marriage should be. All I knew was that everything seemed regimented, but I suppose everything follows my schedule. What would you like, Louise? I think I told you before, but there are always invitations we could attend." He kissed her ear through her loose hair. "I'd like to see you in more dresses."

Gladdened by the compliment, still Louise could not help but still feel the curls of dissatisfaction tremble over her heart. "But you are always so busy. Even if you've finished your new draft, there are always things you must attend to about the county, more magic to research, and now the commandership in the army..." She drifted, wondering why she was building a wall between them with these words, even if they were the truth. Was she being unreasonable by speaking such reasonable words?

"That is true," Lord Pent said, his tone calm. "Then I will make sure that you are allowed in my office at anytime you please, even if I should be in a meeting, for as long as you like. Of course, I'll have to tell Raike that this is because you'll be in charge while I'm off training. He'll have to accept that, and I'm sure he'll appreciate it. But in actuality..." Louise smiled when he leaned in and kissed her, a mirror of her own chaste kiss given earlier, though he lingered far longer than any maiden would dare. "Does this meet your approval, Louise?" he murmured against her lips.

"Yes...yes," she replied in-between his fervent kisses. "Dear Lord Pent...sweet Lord Pent..." Her hands roamed, from his face and hair to his shoulders, to his chest and further down before rising upward again, too occupied by the heat of his mouth to care about very much at all until she'd pulled him down with her on the bed. "Lord Pent, please stay with me..." she whispered.

"Of course," he mumbled against her neck. She bit her lip, her mind clouded in the most wonderful haze.

"Oh, but...you must stay with me forever..."

She felt him lift himself off her, his forearms on either side of her head and his face above hers when she, with the greatest reluctance, opened her eyes. "In this room? I have a feeling some might complain," he said, his voice warm with humor. With the utmost gentleness, he kissed her cheek. "But I am tempted," he continued, and she didn't need any sort of light to know that he was smiling, and doing so with nothing less than joyful openness.

A lovely feeling bubbled inside her, and whatever the parts were the combined total was nothing less than the bright giddiness of laughter. It was a feeling that could not be quelled; no, indeed, it should not ever be ended or silenced. It was formed from the very best of realizations - that no matter what happened, she could trust in the bond they were forging as husband and wife. Perhaps it was a thin series of links right now, but it would grow - oh, how it would grow!

And they would grow in turn - oh, how they would grow.

-epilogue-

It was the crash that woke him up, a great clashing too alike to the sound of metal against metal, sword to axe. Pent had been trained in battle, against guerrilla warfare, and though there was a pattern to the Western Isles resistance's attacks, they could be taken unawares. That was why, in the same instant the sound had registered, he had already grabbed the tome on the table beside him and sat up, ready to cast as soon as he opened his eyes.

Then he actually opened his eyes, and found a wide-eyed maid in front of his bed. Although, when he thought about it, this wasn't his bed, was it...

Another maid ran in, stared at him for a brief moment, then with a red face hurried to pick up the tea tray and broken tea instruments before pushing the first maid out of the room. The door slammed behind them.

Dumbfounded, he looked to Louise, who was also sitting up, holding the blanket demurely over her chest, and realized that the second maid's embarrassment was certainly his fault. Then he looked to the tome he had grabbed and read its title with some disbelief: _The Adventures of a Brave Knight in Service to His Wandering Lord_.

"Somehow, I imagined you read Saint Elimine's words every night before going to bed," he mused, privately mortified enough by the recent series of events that he wasn't above teasing his wife. "Just like the image of the sweet country Lighter Eliminean girl I thought I'd married."

Louise pouted at him, though her tousled hair and clouded eyes blunted much of the irritation he thought she was surely feeling. "I like adventure novels," she huffed, "and in any case I'm sure you didn't marry me for what you imagined my look to resemble."

This was true; reality was much better than whatever he could've imagined. He glanced up from the curve of hip her blanket didn't hide and smiled at her, though she wasn't looking at him. "You're right, of course. But if that scene is going to be a reoccurring one, perhaps we should sleep in my room from now on?"

-end-

Is there something about this serial that you like or dislike? I would love to hear your thoughts! When no one says anything, I can only take that as an expression that there is absolutely nothing worthwhile to the words I write. I was greatly enthusiastic about creating this serial, but if there really is nothing about it that evokes anything in you, the reader, then I will stop this serial with the fifth theme, which is the last of the completed stories I have at this time.

The next theme will be up on 1/18!


	4. 10 - 10

garden

(C) Intelligent Studios and Nintendo

-0-

04. For the Heart Grows Fonder...: Scenes from a Separation

(#10. #10)

-Zero-

"I am sorry," Pent said after watching Louise read the letter he'd just received. The cold, bright November day made his wife appear paler than what he was used to, and the length of time she spent - was still spending - reading the letter made him slightly nervous. As to preempt her worries he continued with, "We were aware that I would have to attend training. I suppose I didn't think it would be for so long."

Her lips twitched as she folded the letter and returned it to its envelope; her smile reappeared by the time she handed the letter back to him. "It should be fine. I can handle any business that comes this way, and in the winter there would not be a lot to do."

"That isn't quite true," Pent said, feeling apologetic. "Taxes are due, and then there is the financial plan for the upcoming year which will have to be sent to the king as well for approval. Normally we would have more autonomy, but after the mess of the last few years the king passed a royal decree to all counties that we would be put under this plan." A thought, about his late father's hand in all of this and that idiotic former Baron Tilley (baron no more, his rank having been stripped from him after his illegal ownership of House Reglay), only served to sour his opinion on the usefulness of nobility.

"Don't look so worried, Lord Pent," Louise said, her smile wider now. "My father taught me quite a lot about business. I can do whatever you need!"

"I know," Pent replied. "But don't overwork yourself. Raike knows what needs to be done best, so rely on him."

Louise nodded, pulling her shawls more tightly around her shoulders. The action made him realize that she did look a lot colder than she should be, considering that she was indoors. "Certainly. Is there anything I should think about, anything that you were hoping to implement?"

Pent sighed. "There was a plan to start a series of free schools for commoners in the city, but Raike assured me that we'd have to raise taxes for it. The memory of my father doing the same won't have been long gone from the nobles' minds, and the villages shouldn't have to bear the weight of expenses for the sake of the castle city."

"Even one school would be all right, wouldn't it?" Louise asked, her expression of concern so sympathetic that Pent had to tell himself not to reach out and comfort her.

"Well, yes. That was my other idea, except that the city nobility will be insulted that it isn't a school explicitly for their young." He paused. "I suppose they'd be annoyed either way. If there were two schools in two different districts, that would be a good start. However, there are a lot of expenses associated with opening these schools, such as materials and teachers who can implement the educational standards I've planned out. And to have the king write off on such expenses when only Aquleia has the bulk of academia in the kingdom... It may annoy the other counts, besides Lord Aramis, if it's perceived that Reglay is attempting to 'put on airs' or some other nonsense..." Pent trailed off when he noticed Louise staring at him with a fond expression. "Yes?"

"I remember how much you thought about this, even while you were risking your life in the Western Isles, but there are really so many things to think about even above the idea that children's education should be well-regulated," Louise said, a note of wonderment in her voice. "I'll do my best to see your dream become reality, Lord Pent."

"It may stay a dream for now," Pent warned, worried about the glimmer of determination in his wife's eyes. To think of having to see that light dim from disappointment when he returned, or even later, made his anxiety increase. "For now, let's just worry about these financial obligations."

His wife made a soft, considering sound which he thought didn't sound very much like agreement. "At least you should be back in time for your birthday. We can have a quiet day to ourselves so you can relax. Wouldn't you like that?" she asked, smiling as she tugged at her shawls again.

Pent stared at her for a moment, then became very embarrassed. "I'll miss your birthday, won't I? My deepest apologies, I hadn't realized..."

She reached over the desk and laid her hand on his arm. "Please don't worry. You're doing something very important. We can celebrate both our birthdays together when you come back."

_Still, this is more annoying than I had initially surmised_, Pent thought. He noticed her adjusting her shawls and had an idea. "Why don't you have a new winter wardrobe made? You look cold."

"You noticed?" she asked, her eyes widening in faint surprise.

"It would be harder not to," he said dryly. "Reglay is colder than Alloway in the winter, so it's no surprise you're so affected. Besides, how many shawls are you wearing? You can't go out bundled in shawls and furs and whatever else. You wouldn't be able to move."

"There's only three, Lord Pent, and..." Maybe she realized how hopeless her stance was, Pent thought, because she lowered her head, a dissatisfied twist of her lips his only hint of her annoyance. "Fine, but I have my own income from my father, so you needn't worry about it."

"Louise, please," Pent said, smiling at her. "You're not the only one who wants to do something for the other."

She turned her head so that she was in profile to him; her skin no longer looked so pale with the pinkness suffusing her cheek and across her small, pert nose. All her skin below her chin was covered in the alternatively dark and bright shawls that she was bundled in over her plain lilac indoor dress, of which he could hear the layers of petticoats she wore rustling as she moved her legs or adjusted herself in her seat. It was a nice feeling to be able to see her in the daytime, as she visited him for at least an hour or two everyday in his office, as if he were getting to know - understanding how to live with - the daytime version of her.

Eventually, the corner of her pale pink lips rose as she tucked a lock of her golden hair behind her ear, as if she were trying to hide her bashfulness. "All right, Lord Pent. I-if you don't think it will be a burden."

"I'm glad. This is all I can do for you while I'm gone, so -"

Louise laughed as she turned to look at him. "But you do so much, Lord Pent. Not just for me, but for everyone. Only, please write if you are able. I would be relieved to know how you were doing."

Pent nodded, struck wordless by the sight, the feeling that her smile evoked in him at that moment. It was the sort of smile that deserved to be immortalized in portraiture, and yet she managed to give them out as readily as nature spirits scattered themselves across untouched fields. He still held onto that thought days later, as he left for Aquleia to attend the annual December officers' training.

_It would be nice to have a portrait of Louise done. I should find a painter..._

-One-

Before Reglay, measuring for a new wardrobe was, if not completely dignified and quick, at least relatively painless. Those were the only times Louise purposefully wore only a thin, sleeveless chemise and her undergarments in the presence of another person who was not Celia, for usually it was Lisette who would have the measuring tape and pins at ready. Occasionally there would be another woman, such as when Louise had been measured for her wedding trousseau, for there would be such an array of dresses to make for at least the first year of her life, in that time before her body would inevitably change and become full and heavy with new life. There were also new undergarments as well, corsets and many pairs of silk stockings, as well as filmy summer _chemise de nuit_ in silk and heavier wool ones for autumn and winter. Also, there were foot measurements for heeled indoor shoes and traveling boots and ballroom slippers and so many other events to come. At seventeen her body had come into its own, but there were hardly any lewd comments about it; there was a wedding ahead, everyone's attention more focused on that than ways to tease the young mistress.

But that was home in lively, refreshing Alloway. She had to have expected Reglay to be different in these matters.

The first sign something had gone horribly wrong was in the number of people allowed to sit in on the fitting: besides Louise, seated on her bed and twisting her legs in anxiety inside her long day chemise and undergarments, there was Sophie, Amy, the old madame who had once fitted the last Countess Reglay for her own gowns, and her female assistant, introduced as her niece and who moved at Madame's behest. There were also other maids, who tittered near the door and whose universal excuse for such was to claim they were only waiting for their orders.

"Is it really necessary to have so many people present?" Louise ventured. The madame made a great sound of disapproval at these words.

"Of course. You are Countess Reglay."

Vainly though she tried, Louise didn't understand these few words that seemed to encompass a world in an answer.

More than this, so much worse than this, was when Louise was bade to remove her chemise for the fitting itself. Remembering a measuring line and pins and how easily they were used to measure her sizes without any need to bare herself, indignation churned within her for a moment like an almost burning nausea that seared up into her chest. Then that bright burst of emotion faded, leaving her feeling almost sick with embarrassment, for so many people still lingered inside and outside what should have been her one space all to herself.

"I don't see why I need to remove my chemise," Louise said, unable to stop her grimace at Madame's look of disbelief. "All the other fittings I've done never involved...that."

"Come, do you think you can presume to tell me how to do my duty?" Madame huffed, primly sitting on the chaise lounge as if she belonged there. "The last Countess Reglay always submitted to whatever needed to be done with nobility and elegance. To compare a dressmaker to nobility such as myself to some country wool-spinner is to have no eyes with which to see quality!"

"Oh, Lady Louise," Amy started as she went to sit next to Louise. "It's nothing at all to do as she says. We are all women here, there's no need to be shy."

But this is not merely about shyness, Louise wanted to say. Perhaps she did not understand why Madame would ask this of her, or why there needed to be so many eyes around. Perhaps she understood so little as to be unworthy of being Countess Reglay, though she had never thought beyond their first few meetings that she was unworthy of being Lord Pent's wife. And she had always understood, from the very first time she had laid eyes upon the portrait of Lord Pent's mother, that she could never compare in elegance or grandeur. Even with all this, she had values taught to her by her mother and father, by Celia and Lisette, by Uncle Aramis and Uncle Luca and all those she had met in Alloway. These values told her that her path did not have to be identically aligned with those before her, that she should have pride in her intuition and her feelings, and that her body was a pure and good thing and the one thing she had that was only hers. If she did not wish to reveal it overmuch with the plunging necklines that other noblewomen favored in their opera dresses or ball-gowns, or strip it entirely, that was her right. And with the emotions swirling in the air that puckered her skin more than the dreadful cold of the castle ever could, Louise knew she was the only one who felt this way. She could feel their prurient anticipation slither against her skin, and it took from her reserves of strength to keep from yelling in disgust and fear.

Hadn't they assumed enough of her flaws to not hunger to see the ones she bore on her nude body? Why would they need even more to prove her unworthiness, when they already knew it for themselves?

"...I would like to keep my chemise on, if you please," Louise murmured, her hands clasped tight in her lap as she looked at Madame. "I feel most comfortable with it on."

"What is with your stubbornness, girl?" Madame shouted, her face stiff with anger as she rose from her seat. "I refuse to dress an impertinent country child who cannot even follow simple instructions! I have clients enough among Reglay's noblewomen to bother with a girl brought into House Reglay for one purpose alone!" Roughly, she pulled on her assistant's arm as she dragged the girl to the door, ranting all the while until she had stormed out of the room.

Amy shifted from where she was sitting, her expression uncommonly grave as she looked at Louise. "I'm not really sure why you felt the need to refuse, but I'm sure you know that it wasn't a good idea. Word will spread quickly that Countess Reglay is stubborn about silly things and no one will want to dress you. You'll have to apologize quickly to prevent that."

Louise did not like Amy's words, and even less her maternal tone, which was strangely condescending in a way that not even Louise's own mother used. "But Amy," she started, "I have a right to be comfortable too, and I did not feel comfortable in doing what she asked with so many people around. No, even without a soul other than herself I would not like to follow her instructions. I have never suffered poor quality in my past fittings just because I was measured with a chemise on." Arguing like this was not something Louise thrilled in, and she could tell by Amy's expression that it was not an argument well received.

"Lady Louise, you sound childish when you speak like that," Amy said as she stood up, her voice oddly strained. "I suspect that woman won't accept an apology note. I'll take you to her shop tomorrow so you can apologize in person, and that will clear it up. Good day."

In disbelief Louise watched her friend go, then she exhaled loudly and slumped - without a corset it felt blessedly good to do so, and perhaps a little wicked considering the years of training she had been put to for the sake of a perfect posture. "That went badly. I really must be a child..."

"Really?" Sophie said, still standing where she had been during the entire futile exercise. The look on her face was of strong concentration; to Louise it looked as though she was thoroughly puzzled. "I don't understand. You're Countess Reglay, even that old woman said it so, but no one listens to you. The measuring string's drawn tight, so you shouldn't need to be...naked. And..." Sophie looked away, her short dark brown hair hiding much of her face, "what's wrong with being from the countryside? Not everyone can be born in the castle cities. And I don't know what she meant by your 'one purpose'."

_You're not some horse, or dare I say a brood-mare, but a young woman with a sense of dignity and purpose._

Louise sighed again, inaudible this time. She pressed one hand against her stomach, which was as flat and unchanged as the day she had married Lord Pent.

"I know," she said.

-Two-

"Are you healthy, Lord Pent?"

Pent half-smiled at the question. "I do think so, but I await your decision on the matter."

The cleric, a middle-aged woman who seemed to be in charge of the health examinations ordered by the lieutenant-general, returned his smile as she sat down in front of him. "Forgive us for the wait. Lady Jacqueline insisted we examined all of the regulars first so that they could be sent off to this year's training grounds. You must have thought our little abbey to be dreadfully boring."

"Not at all," Pent said honestly. "There was quite a lot to read about light magic and healing. I hadn't been able to study it fully at the academy."

"Ah, that's good. Would you like to borrow a few pamphlets to transcribe later for your own use?"

"Please, if you don't mind."

"Certainly. I'll have the ones you like sent to Reglay." The cleric bowed her head, letting her short, medium brown hair streaked with silver fall forward past her ears before she brushed her hair back into place. "Now, just a few questions. Do you have any lingering troubles from your childhood? Any aches, or a difficulty in breathing?"

"No, not at all."

"I heard that you had been in the Western Isles for about eighteen months, and for roughly half that time there had been inadequate medical care available. Were you ill during that time?"

"No."

"And you felt healthy after you returned to Etruria? There are no lingering complaints?"

"None in the least."

"Hmm." The cleric seemed to be considering something, by the way her dark green eyes glanced at him with a sharpness he hadn't noticed in her before. "You'll forgive me about inquiring about this, but we don't like nasty little surprises appearing later when they could have been treated before. I understand that you are married?"

Pent nodded. "Yes, for about seven months now."

"There was a long engagement beforehand, from what I've heard. About three years?"

"Yes."

Pausing, the cleric seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "For men of your age there is a certain expectation. Were you ever physically engaged in the attentions of another?"

"No," Pent answered, trying in vain to stifle a sudden stinging feeling of embarrassment. Perhaps the cleric was alerted to this, for her manner seemed even more gentle, if possible.

"It doesn't have to be a long affair. Even one time -"

"You misunderstand," he said, privately mortified now but doing his best to keep his expression and tone mild. "My wife has been - is - my only, ah, partner."

"All right," the cleric said kindly, though she didn't seem to relax, which in turn kept Pent alert. "Thank you for your honesty. And regarding your wife, she also would be able to say the same?"

A tiny bit of his self-control slipped, he could feel it. "Of course," he said, his tone sharper than he would've liked. The cleric seemed unperturbed by this reaction - a normal one, Pent felt.

"Yes, I apologize for offending you." She bowed to him before rising from her chair. "The delicate nature of these questions may be impertinent for us to ask, but we must ask anyway. I'm only grateful we may actually get through a day without calling the royal apothecary over." There was a slight smile on her face. "I offer congratulations for your wedding, and may Saint Elimine bless your marriage and offer her eternal light so that you may find the way to happiness together. I'll have a male cleric come so that the particulars of your examination can begin."

Pent watched her leave, unsure of his own feelings. Any annoyance he had felt now fled, but there was still a feeling of distaste lingering behind, sour and sharp. Louise, after all, was pure; their marriage did not change this. Picturing her now, he thought that perhaps she was even more pure now, though he didn't think anything could debase her, nor did he think of himself as a corrupting element.

His thoughts swirling into so much slush, Pent felt more irritated than before. The footfalls he heard approaching his room in the abbey where he had been kept in seclusion for a week were a thankful distraction. He lifted his head in time to see a familiar face enter the room. "Simon?" he uttered, surprised.

"Captain...Lord Pent," Simon, the surviving cleric of the Western Isles campaign, greeted, though his tone was not what one would call overly friendly by Pent's estimation. There were still circles under his eyes, and he moved as though he were worn out.

"I didn't think I would ever see you again," Pent said, pleased by this sudden reunion; his fondness for novelties had reasserted itself. "How have you been?"

"Not well. The Western Isles still weighs on me. I asked to be reassigned to some minor role in the Church, but the abbey requested for male clerics to help with the mage division examinations. I didn't know what to think when I saw your name on the list." Simon sat down, running his hand through his thin blond hair. "What were you thinking?"

"...The lieutenant-general has been requesting that I assume the role as one of the commanders of the division, due to my experience," Pent answered, somewhat concerned by Simon's critical tone and words. "Originally I had been opposed to the idea, but circumstances have changed and now I'm here."

Shaking his head, Simon crossed his arms over his thin chest, his robes bunching around his midsection. "After the Western Isles you could still want to fight? How can you long for battle that much?"

"I don't long for battle -"

"Don't you?" Simon countered. "Aren't you craving for it? Don't you know what it means to join the military voluntarily? That means you have to be willing to kill. You are willing to kill people with your magic. That's a world's difference away from the Western Isles, where you could only feel sorry for those men, called criminals by the kingdom and sent to throw away their lives against the Isles' resistance. I pitied them, and I prayed for them. But this is different!"

"I know that," said Pent. "I would think that anyone in the Etrurian Army knows what their purpose is. But I won't turn away. I decided to serve in the army because my values allow me to accept that. If I can help in some way to make the division more efficient, lives will be saved -"

"On your side. The other side will have their own killed that much faster."

"You do realize that Saint Elimine fought in The Scouring too, don't you?" Pent said as kindly as he could. "While I am not fond of fighting, I have resolved to do what I can to make easier for those who are with me. Perhaps that is idealistic, but I have some power to try."

Simon said nothing, his eyes downcast. In this action Pent could see nothing less than the complete refutation of all that he said, but he thought that was fine. Saint Elimine had espoused peace after The Scouring had ended. Even one as weak in the faith like himself knew that much. And so he thought people like Simon were necessary, because someone needed to spread the truth - war was a terrible thing, and it should not exist. After all, Simon had been there longer than Pent's eighteen months on the Western Isles, and he had watched people he could not heal die, again and again.

Pent didn't even have the power to heal others, only to set enemies ablaze and watch them die painfully. When he thought about it this way, he could understand fully the depth of Simon's criticism. Yet...yes, he did crave something. Not death, not ever, but a deeper understanding of the potential he wielded. Not just anima's destructive power, but even further than that.

If he had to go into battle to gain more experience in his magic, then so be it.

-Three-

Louise had always had a complicated relationship with sewing. Embroidery still continued to be difficult, but it did not completely escape her; her experience with it was borne more from continued practice rather than any talent, but she could now embroider complex patterns onto a handkerchief and be proud of them. Someday she thought she might like to learn how to properly make lace, since quite a few of her dresses required it in so many different places that it was more a necessity to have lace ready to be sown on one of her visiting dresses than a mere girl's affectation.

Sewing was different, particularly now as she and Sophie sewed bits of fur to the collars, sleeves, and bodices of her Allowellian winter dresses so as to make them more appropriate for a Reglay winter instead. The most difficult part was acquiring the appropriate colors and types of fur, though Sophie had handled well the coin Louise had given her. Nothing too exorbitant, of course: white with black spots, white alone, dark brown pelts, all rabbit. Then they had cut and sewed on these pieces to the appropriate colored dresses, such as the black-spotted white pelt to a light-blue dress, or the dark brown to an aubergine-colored one. Finally, these specially treated dresses were hung in Louise's dressing room, as she feared the effect should they be folded carefully back into their drawers. Seven dresses were prepared in this way across two weeks' time, and Louise knew she had many other capes and cloaks and pelisses besides, so she was safe now.

Louise did feel badly though when she thought of Lord Pent's possible reactions - he could be annoyed, or dismissive, or disappointed, but above all she imagined he would be hurt. She had the feeling he wanted to provide for her because it was what husbands did, and she had ruined that for him by being prideful to the last. But she knew if she explained the circumstances to him, he would understand. Lord Pent was very understanding and agreeable.

She had apologized to the dressmaker just as Amy had suggested, but it was not good enough. Louise had the feeling it would never be good enough, and she was determined not to fret anymore about it. She would not be cowed into apologizing for being the woman Lord Pent had married, not for all the dresses in the world.

-Four-

"I want to introduce you to someone," the lieutenant-general had said, so Pent had followed her through the training grounds, where officers of all three divisions were training separately before moving on to their winter training locations with the rest of their divisions. Pent hadn't heard where the regulars of the mage division were, and with the rigors of his own personal training regime set by the lieutenant-general he hadn't particularly had time to care. He moved by her orders, and after a week of this he could understand how the common soldier could come to be so devoted to the military.

Eventually, they had reached the mage division officer quarters of the military grounds, where they were now waiting for this mystery person. Occasionally Pent would look over at where the lieutenant-general was sitting, marveling at how she never seemed to move; other than the slight rise and fall of her chest, it was hard to believe she wasn't a life-sized doll. For his part, Pent was thinking about what to write to Louise and failing at constructing anything interesting, but a short note wouldn't be satisfactory...

Finally there was a knock. "Come in," the lieutenant-general stated as she rose from her chair, so Pent also stood. A young man entered; he looked to be in his mid- to late twenties and was groomed to the exacting standards of the military. Pent could sense magical talent from the man and surmised he was the last of the mage division commanders, who hadn't arrived on time like Pent himself and the other two commanders.

"Forgive my tardiness, ma'am," the new commander said, snapping to attention before the lieutenant-general. "The business went on longer than I had expected."

"Your family?" the lieutenant-general asked as she walked to him.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Understood. This is Pent Martel, our new commander. I'll be removing regulars from yours, Lena's, and Viktor's sections to create his. If you have anyone to nominate for his sub-commanders, let me know by the end of this week." The lieutenant-general waved for Pent to come forward. "Pent, this is Corwyn Manstet, first commander of the mage division. He'll be teaching you about your new duties."

Corwyn smiled and offered his hand, which Pent took. "Well met, Commander. Martel? House Reglay, then. Never thought I'd shake hands with nobility of your level."

"Houses do not matter here, Commander Corwyn," the lieutenant-general reprimanded, arms crossed. "Get Commander Pent acquainted with the rest of officer training and what he should expect when we move out. Tonight you're on a partner exercise with the cavalier knight second commander, so report to their division after dinner."

"Shouldn't the second commander be coming to us, ma'am?" Corwyn asked as he turned to face the lieutenant-general. "I rank higher, after all."

"Normally, but the mounted knight division no longer has a lieutenant-general either, so they only have the three commanders. I don't wish to look down on them, but until His Majesty decides on the next knight general we should all do our best to accommodate them. General Douglas is in agreement."

"Understood, ma'am. I hear and obey."

Pent noticed a flicker of some errant emotion that swept across the lieutenant-general's face in one moment, but in the next it was as if nothing had happened. She only nodded to the both of them and left the office. Corwyn stretched and massaged the back of his neck before plopping down on a seat, lazily gesturing for Pent to do the same. Pent did so with rather more grace.

"So, what do you want to know?"

Pent raised an eyebrow at that. "What do you think I should know?"

Scratching at his bare jaw, Corwyn nodded sagely. "Good, good, that's good. You know, I didn't think she'd get you to join up. Actually, I thought she'd promote someone internally, but none of our sub-commanders are quite up to standards. That's why our training exercise this winter is so damnably long. But you've got experience, so it's just a matter of getting you used to what actual military command is like."

"Ah, I see," Pent said, studying Corwyn's short, bright blond hair and wondering if he were an Etruscan, but not willing to ask. "Are all the other commanders nobles? I haven't really spoken with them."

"Yes, and it's best you don't ask if the lieutenant-general's in earshot. Anyway, none of us are highborn like yourself other than the lieutenant-general. Lena's the second daughter of a baronet, Vik's a bastard son who's being supported by his courtier father, and I'm the third son of Baron Nissé of Utica." Corwyn huffed. "Lots of the regulars are lowborn nobles or children of the gentry; how else are you supposed to study magic otherwise? The other two divisions are more diverse, especially the cavalier knight division. Peppered with bastard children, that one."

_So he is Etruscan_, Pent thought. Out loud he said, "That is why the mounted knight lieutenant-general is gone?"

"Yeah, he was the knight general's bastard. Not the only one in the division, of course. All of them were exiled...well, you should know about this. It's because of you and your wife."

"No, my mother-in-law wrote that book."

Corwyn shook his head, a thin smile on his face. "Hah, good luck." Then he looked up at Pent, his expression suddenly pensive. "Oh, that's right. The lieutenant-general said she gave you a special dispensation to bring your wife along on missions. Are you really sure that's what you want?"

Pent studied the other man for a moment, curious if this request of his was known to all the commanders, and what they thought of it. "Does the lieutenant-general tell you everything?" he asked, though his meaning was actually the opposite.

"Well...I guess I should tell you so you don't get too surprised," Corwyn smiled, but this one gave his face a younger, more nervous cast to it. "I'm courting the lieutenant-general. N-not actually courting her, but I accompany her to palace balls, parties where she's required to attend, official events basically."

"But you're not courting her officially," Pent thought out loud. He was sorry for it when he noticed that Corwyn's overly friendly personality seemed to deflate at those words.

"How could a third son of a baron hope to marry the firstborn daughter of a duke?"

Pent thought about Louise's parents. "You would surprised what can happen if you try," he said with the sort of lightness he knew would be better received from his wife's mouth rather than his own. Corwyn seemed to appreciate it; his smile became more natural as he sat up more appropriately for a military officer.

"The lieutenant-general would never want to try. She's going to be the next mage general, so she can't marry now. No one would take her seriously if she were married. She'd be expected to have children, such as the next heir to House Seine, and she'd just be put aside." Corwyn looked away, a wistful expression crossing his face. "I could never do that to her. She's so much bigger and _more_ than that."

"I thought she had a brother?"

Corwyn shook his head. "He's not capable. He's...never going to be. That's why the lieutenant-general runs her house as well as performs her own duties in the division."

"And her father?" Pent asked.

"The mage general seems to be sick a lot." Now Corwyn looked grave. "I don't think he wants the lieutenant-general to be the next mage general. He's tried to remove her from the position before, but no one else is half as capable as she is. No one likes it when he's well enough to come by, either. He's just clinging to the position. Eventually the king will see through it and give the lieutenant-general her rightful due."

"I see," Pent said. He'd thought the military was far less tangled than the mess that was nobility, but he supposed nothing was easy when the nobility were the leaders of the military. "I'm sorry you have to deal with so much more than commandership."

Corwyn chuckled. "You're not so separate from it now. You're one of us! You have to do your part in supporting the lieutenant-general. Start now, while you can still enjoy Aquleia's fine weather."

"Fine weather?" Pent said. It wasn't completely sarcastic; for late December the skies were clear and relatively little snow had fallen, but he could see his breath while he was indoors even though he wasn't bothered by the cold. "Will we be training up north, then?"

"Yeah, the regulars have been suffering there for the last couple of weeks already. We'll be heading up to it at the end of the week. Viscount Possa's going to be hosting us this year, up in Peranee County, so get ready to see Ilia's famous blizzards up close!" Corwyn was grinning, but it tapered off after a moment. "What's wrong, Pent? Peranee's in the sticks, but we officers are still staying in the viscount's manor. You'll have all the comforts of home."

"I'm sure," Pent said, and if his tone was too dry to be sincere Corwyn didn't remark on it.

-Five-

On the cusp of her eighteenth birthday, Louise was excited for no other reason than because there was now work to be done beyond sighing wistfully out any convenient window at the sight of falling snow. Watching it fall reminded her of years past, when she could play undisturbed in the sparse powdering of snow in warmer Alloway, or of a year past, when she was able to visit Lord Pent at the castle after the knight general's evil plans had been thwarted and Lord Pent had been restored of his life and his title. It reminded her of their first kiss and she was not too old to romanticize that, not when he would be away for yet another month before she could receive more of the same. But no, there was no time for that, not for the longing dreams of a young woman; while there was work to be done in the form of signing off on the taxes she would be no less and no more than a splendid Countess Reglay.

"Well, it's not really necessary, Lady Louise," Master Raike said when she presented herself to him in his office on the very first day of January. He smiled as he continued with, "Why don't you concentrate on your upcoming birthday? It may be too cold to have a proper party, but it would distract the town nobility. They would love you for it."

She would be very sorry to let Master Raike know that she did not think a mere party would do that much, else she would have tried before. To have such a thing at taxation time seemed quite disrespectful as well. Instead, she pulled out the most recent letter she had received from Lord Pent, in which he discussed her duties regarding overseeing the Reglay taxes in great detail - so much so that he neglected to say very much about his own condition up in northern Etruria - and handed it to Master Raike. He took it, curiosity writ large on his face, and began to read. After a moment, blotches began to appear on his face as he began to frown.

"This is very unusual, Lady Louise," he said. She smiled at him encouragingly.

"What is, Master Raike?"

"Well, for the lady of any noble house, not to talk of a countess, to involve herself in such a duty. It is the pleasure of a noblewoman not to concern herself with these things."

An instinctive creature, Louise could sense that the delicacy of Master Raike's words belied the great and overwhelming concerns he had regarding her. There was too much work to be done to begin to spin and shift the same delicate dance of words; she thought of her mother's courage and took in a breath of cold air. "Master Raike, do you think me to be incompetent?"

He stared at her, his face blotched with a deeper red. "Lady Louise, you have me mistaken."

"It's fine if you think that of me," she said with a giggle. "I've failed you and Amy before. I couldn't do much more than stave off the inevitable, as far as Lord Pent's title was concerned. It's fine if you have doubts about me as a proper lady, or as a helpmeet to Lord Pent. I'm not really interested in those things. I just want to save Lord Pent."

"Save him from what?" Master Raike asked, his face lightening in its color.

Louise folded her arms in front of her dress as she tried to stand even straighter than she had before. "When I presented my bow at the bridal meeting, I only thought of protecting him with my life. But being with him, being his wife has taught me that it is not merely Lord Pent's life I wish to protect. I want to protect his dreams. His dreams for himself, and his dreams for Reglay. My father taught me skills for this, too. Please, let me do this."

"The school?" Master Raike leaned back, his expression deeply contemplative to Louise's eyes. "If Lord Pent says to allow you to try, I can only concede. But as I told him, there is much more than money that runs a school, and you won't find ways to squeeze the money from just adjusting a few figures in the tax collection."

"We could - we could reduce expenditures in the castle too," Louise suggested.

"Did you mention that to Lord Pent? Has he agreed to it?"

Louise pursed her lips together; Master Raike's tone was kind enough, but she suspected she would not win this argument. "No, I only thought of it now."

"If Lord Pent tells me that it is what you two agreed on, I can see what I can do," Master Raike said, his smile a little stiff.

"As the lady of the house, I should have total say over the operations of the castle," Louise argued in a gentle tone. "The housekeeper does keep me informed about important details because of this rule."

"As she does me, because as steward I am the one who sees to the castle operations at House Reglay's pleasure."

"Then, Lord Pent and myself?"

Master Raike's face blotched red again. "Actually, only Lord Pent."

"But I am his wife!" Louise said, genuinely confused and with no small amount of frustration fueling her words. She could see by the pained expression on Master Raike's face that it had been the wrong thing to say.

"But you are not a blood member of House Reglay. You only married into it."

It was a worthless and futile conversation, she knew. "All right," she said, "I'll work in Lord Pent's office."

Later, after she was able to funnel her considerable nervous energy in working on the first of the papers delivered to her, Sophie entered the open office with a tea service in her hand. "Lady Louise, time for a break!"

"Thank you, Sophie," Louise said as she lifted her head from the figures she had been working out, not for the first time marveling at the surrounding walls of Lord Pent's office. They were grand, the decorations sparse and hearkening back to an earlier, more dignified age - quite different from the rooms given to her, though she now slept in the room she shared with Lord Pent - and she wondered, not for the first time, if Lord Pent had ever noticed how lovely the office was. "Oh, will you be keeping me company?" asked Louise after she noticed there were two cups on the tray.

"If you don't mind," Sophie said, giving her a wide smile. "This work must be really tough!"

"Not at all," Louise said, her mood improving just by hearing Sophie's cheerful inflections. "It reminds me of the sums my father had me do since I was a little girl. It's quite improving to do this sort of work. As a noblewoman...the life is a little stilted, numbing almost. Doing this, even if it's just checking on others' work, is exciting to me."

Sophie nodded, her short, dark brown hair bobbing with the movement. "The count should let you do this work, and he can go visit the noblewomen!" Louise laughed at this, setting the papers aside to take the cup of tea Sophie was now offering her.

"I think I'll do that! Maybe we could trade week-by-week?"

-Six-

"You could have told me that you were related to the viscount," the lieutenant-general said to Pent later, after their first dinner with Viscount Possa. "Now I have to wonder if the reason we had been so warmly invited here initially was because of your presence."

Pent looked away, studying the lavish library's warm reds and browns and finding himself displeased by the memories they brought up. "It was obvious when you saw him, wasn't it?"

There was a pause, one that dragged out so long that Pent felt coerced to return his attention to the lieutenant-general. Her expression was unchanged, but her stare was heavy and oppressive. "Is that how you think you can talk to your commanding officer?" she said, her tone quiet.

Pent remembered what it was like to serve under another, though the difference was that he could respect the one in front of him now. "I beg your forgiveness. I was rude," he apologized with sincerity. "It will not happen again."

The lieutenant-general stared at him for a moment longer before she looked away. She had seemed faintly foreboding all evening in the dress she had worn to dinner; it was tasteful and attractive to even Pent's lack of understanding regarding women's clothing, but she looked ill at ease and moved with a stiffness that was never present when she was in her military uniform. Being introduced to Viscount Possa had only deepened this ambivalence, and Pent had been noticing glances from his fellow commanders all throughout the dinner. The lack of conversation from any party had made him glad when the plates were cleared, only to be pulled away as soon as he had crossed the threshold out of the dining room. Her annoyance was understandable, though he thought it could not dwarf his own.

He had never wanted to come back to this place. Never again.

"Help me understand why the viscount would offer to host our training," the lieutenant-general was saying when he had cleared these bothersome thoughts away. "There seems to be no love lost between the two of you."

Pent dared not even sigh, though he did permit himself a shake of the head. "Viscount Possa is my mother's elder brother. When my mother passed away, I was raised here as a fosterling for a few years by the former Viscount Possa, my grandfather. Once my grandfather passed away, I was returned to my father. I have never thought that my uncle particularly tolerated my existence here."

"You think he would have appreciated the prestige that comes in raising a highborn noble child, though it might have been annoying that you were placed to inherit a title so much more worthy than a viscounty," the lieutenant-general said, shaking her head slowly. "He has children, I presume? Not by the young woman. I would suspect children older than her."

"Yes, a son and two daughters." There was something there that Pent didn't want to think about, so he said, with ample discretion, "They are all older than me, though I cannot say how old that woman is. That woman is not my aunt. Perhaps she has passed away."

The lieutenant-general stared at him, no particular emotion in her dark green eyes, though she wore a sneer of faint disdain. "Your wife may find these pretenses at naivety appealing, but it puts the lie to your reputed intellect to act as such. I don't understand why he would invite us here if not for you, but if he doesn't even care for you then it is a mystery. Mysteries are not permissible when I have the entire division training here for a month longer."

"And you are asking me to find out more?" Pent asked. This earned him another terrible glower.

"I am not asking you. I am ordering you. I do not wish to be beholden to one with suspicious motives."

This left Pent in an ill-wanted position, for he certainly did not desire to talk with his uncle if he could help it. He could not remember being actively mistreated by the man when he was younger, only that his uncle had always been around, treating him politely with dark eyes and a darker heart. Exaggeration certainly, but Pent could feel that anger now, across the years, and it seemed to be firmly planted on his back. Try as he might, he could not get away from that feeling that he was deeply hated for doing no less than living.

Unfortunately for him, it was not an issue that could be left in the dust until a later date; the very next night he was invited into the sitting room for an after-dinner drink with his uncle, alone. So Pent followed his uncle to another lavishly decorated room and was served an amber-colored drink, all the while wondering how a viscount's manor could be decorated so richly, especially one in as poor a place as northern Etruria. The alcohol was brandy, a popular digestif during his and Louise's time at court, and a popular export of Reglay's across the continent - pretensions of grandeur for this place of snow and little arable land, or was there a deeper meaning? Another sip and Pent's suspicions grew; it was high quality and different in taste from the sort Reglay's grapes tended to produce, so it was most likely imported from Lycia. His uncle had certainly developed expensive tastes...

His mind directed to the man, Pent studied the man in the other seat. They shared the same coloring and a similar height, but he did not want to think that with age would come such degeneration. His uncle should be in his early to mid-forties, but his face was too lined and ill-used to honestly make such a deduction. The face might have been improved with a beard - not currently in style at court, which was where Pent thought his uncle received most of his direction in grandiosity - but the eyes were too small and hard, his bluish-gray hair thin and lank. While in his recent past Pent could remember the sensation of going hungry as he and the rest of his troop on the Western Isles hunted and scavenged to feed their dwindling numbers, his uncle looked like he had always eaten well - not quite to fatness, but rather to a self-satisfied sleekness.

Did he have hints of this hedonist lifestyle before, Pent wondered, or had they been stymied by his grandfather's presence? Certainly it was humbling to see the ravages of age in maybe twelve or so years.

"Well now, Pent," his uncle began, gesturing to the butler by his side to pour another drink for himself. "I had heard you found a bride, but becoming a commander at so young an age? Did you get bored of marriage so soon?"

Pent smiled thinly. "No. You've heard of my marriage?"

"It was in the Aquleia broadsheets. A friend reported it to me because he noticed I hadn't been one of your noble audience." Smiling in a knowing manner, his uncle shook his head. "But I suppose counts and dukes will cling together away from the low nobility if they can help it."

Having barely touched his drink, Pent took a sip of it now for fortification. He felt as though he had entered an arena without his tome. "I see. I hadn't wanted to trouble you with the distance. How are your children?"

"Fine enough. My son is a courtier to the king, and I married off both daughters long ago."

"And my aunt?"

"I've put her away now that she's no longer needed."

Pent frowned. "She is your wife." His uncle shrugged.

"And she is no longer necessary. Why keep something around if it troubles you to look at it?" With dark, knowing eyes his uncle stared at him. "You must be a romantic to think otherwise, heady with delusions of love. You will see later that having one woman is a bore. If she thinks your power is hers, so much the worse when you finally decide to detach yourself from her."

"Your advice is unnecessary," Pent said with a bluntness that made his uncle narrow his eyes. "Let's not continue this any further. Why did you decide to host the mage division's training exercises?"

"Because of your presence. I wished to talk."

"That's what letters are for, I believe," Pent said, eyeing the door behind his uncle's chair. It was too bad he could also see his uncle glower at the jibe, but it was better his uncle's footing was unstable rather than his own. "Why go this far?"

His uncle finished his drink, waving away his butler irritably when the man approached with the intent to pour another. "We are family, even if you wish to deny it. Why can't it be for altruistic reasons?"

Pent put down his drink and stood. "Thank you for the drink. I'm sure I have duties to attend to, so if you need to talk you can always have one of your servants send a note. Good night." He began to walk towards the door, but as he passed his uncle's chair the other man grabbed his wrist with vice-like pressure.

"You have not been excused," his uncle snarled. "We have much to discuss."

Looking down at the large hand that gripped his wrist, Pent waited until his uncle loosened the pressure before calmly taking his hand away, just like he had seen Raike remove books and items on his desk from his young sons whenever they visited the castle. "So get to the point," he said coolly.

"For my generosity you will be lending me a sum to be paid back at my pleasure."

_I knew he was pretending at wealth._ Out loud, Pent said, "Extortion is illegal."

"It is hardly extortion," his uncle retorted. "It is simply the terms of a verbal contract between relations. Everyone at court already knows it as such. If you back out now, your noble house will be tarnished. Can you handle that, 'Hero of the Western Isles'?"

Pent considered the gleam of victory in his uncle's eyes, thinking quickly. _His son must have spread this rumor after we left, or else the lieutenant-general would have countered it. She may not be happy, but if I bend once, I will be bent for life._ "I don't think I'll do that. Your overspending is none of my concern, not even for all the blood we share. If you try to destroy me with rumors, I will formally have you charged for extortion in the royal court. I think the lieutenant-general would like to join once she learns of your plans. House Seine and House Reglay, as well as their attendant families...do you truly wish to face such opponents, Viscount Possa?"

His uncle glared up at him. "Then leave."

"No, I don't think we'll be doing that either."

"You think you can force me to host your little training session until February as intended without giving me what I am owed?"

"Well, it's not a matter of force, but common sense," Pent said. "You see, you could throw us out and force us to march back to Aquleia. Of course, this will garner quite a lot of attention, particularly from the king himself. I will tell the truth of why we had to leave, which will make your current situation a precarious one. King Mordred has already exiled a duke and stripped a baron of his title. He will not hesitate to act against a viscount who would abuse a military division for the sake of extorting money.

"Now, if you allowed us to stay, you will still receive compensation from the kingdom for the time and expense in hosting our training exercises. Of course, if you try to inflate the dues you receive you will probably run afoul of the lieutenant-general's accounting, and it will lead back to the same conclusion as if you had thrown us out to begin with. But if you choose to be honest and then correct your spending, I would be more open to negotiating a loan."

His uncle sat there, staring up at him with strange emotions playing on his face. Pent was not completely sure what it meant until the older man sighed. "I expect a loan with favorable terms towards repayment. We are poor here."

Pent shook his head. "Your people are poorer than you. What is the amount you were seeking?"

"One hundred and fifty-four thousand gold."

_How does one spend so much_, Pent wondered in shock. Even with the lavish decorations, even with the rich food, even with a mistress, it still seemed impossible to him. "I will consider it when you deliver proof that you are willing to amend your spending habits," he finally said.

His uncle laughed bitterly. "To think I would be outsmarted by the youngest count in Etruria. To be beholden to my nephew at my age is an insult I can little endure."

"You should thank Grandfather for that," Pent said, trying to be kind. "He taught me how to play chess. It has helped my thinking enormously."

"The attention he gave you at the detriment of all else helped a great deal too, I imagine," his uncle said. Though his tone was bitter, his expression was simply that of defeat. "Go. I imagine your work cannot wait for you any longer."

Pent left to report to the lieutenant-general, finding her in the library as she talked in low tones with Corwyn as they sat next to each other. Corwyn had something of a disappointed expression on his face when he saw Pent there, though the lieutenant-general was the same as always. "Something you need, Commander?" she asked, tilting her head to look up at him.

"I'm here to report my findings."

She glanced at Corwyn, who nodded and got up, giving Pent an odd look before he left the library. "Your report," she said after he was gone.

Pent gave his report, omitting not even the deal he expressed to his uncle at the end. Finances had a bad habit of outing themselves, he had found, and he didn't want her to be even a little suspicious of him. Lately he had felt he didn't want to disappoint her, as she was not only his commanding officer but sometimes she spoke to him about his wife as though she thought she could be friends with Louise, something Pent deeply appreciated. Reglay's noblewomen had been disappointing in this regard.

Once he had finished his report, she looked at him for a long moment with a considering look on her face. "You aren't as naive as I thought you to be," she finally said.

"Thank you," Pent said, a little pleased. That was high praise from her, he imagined.

She stared at him a moment longer, then nodded. "No, thank you. I appreciate it when my workload is lessened. You are dismissed."

That night, Pent stayed up to write a long letter to Louise. He had to apologize to her, after all, because if his uncle actually held up his end of the deal, there would be no money for a school for commoners. It disappointed him to give up on this little dream before it had even started, but he was only just about twenty. He intended to live a long life, and who knows what he could achieve within that time?

-Seven-

"We should leave, Lady Louise," Sir Nestor said as he approached her. "This is not a good neighborhood to linger."

"But why is it so?" Louise asked, studying the dilapidated stone buildings that stood ominously around her like sentinels of a lost age, though it was only the southeast sector of the commoners' quarter of the castle city. Having stumbled upon it on her walk she had to admit to never seeing such a thing before; Master Raike and Amy lived in a nicer part of the quarter, where cute little houses stood side by side - a little crowded, yes, but there was such a prevalent feeling of home in that neighborhood that it made her chest hurt sometimes to be there. And of course, in Alloway there was little more than small villages and the odd manor; Uncle Aramis' castle did not have a city attached to it.

A castle city was a civilized thing. Aquleia was the very image of culture, with delights aplenty for tourists and residents both - a white city for the White Palace. But standing here, now, Louise could not think it so. Here, now, a city was a dirty, rude thing, with nothing but hollowed-out husks and not a living soul to be found.

Sir Nestor did not answer her, and she knew it would do no good to repeat herself. Instead, she tried to follow the road of a new thought. "Lord Pent wished to build a school, and now he says it cannot be done because money must be on hand to encourage his relative to do better," she told him. "But I see a place such as this, and I think we have a long way before we can even think of a school. First the people here must have a warm, tidy home."

"The people here do not wish such. They are what their surroundings are," he said in his quiet voice, no inflection, no emotion. "We must leave now, before you see the result for yourself." And saying so, he took her by the arm and walked in long strides; surprised, Louise could only follow like a scolded child. They walked until they reached the main street that cut through the castle city as Lisette would cut an apple before coring it and cutting it into slices for Louise's mother to take as a snack. The image did not help, and she touched her forehead with a gloved hand and wondered if she had a headache coming on.

"I do not agree with you, Sir Nestor," Louise said after a slow, deep breath. "I think all people are searching for warmth and goodness. I cannot believe otherwise."

He looked at her, his dark brown eyes betraying nothing of his inner thoughts. After a moment he swept a hand through his short, dark blond hair. "I admire that way of thinking. The captain depends on it to urge him further. He would have given up on his wish if you did not encourage him."

"I don't think Lord Pent is as weak-minded as that to give up so easily," Louise replied, smiling at Lord Pent's dear friend. "He must always be thinking about more than his wants and dreams, but he keeps them sheltered in his heart all the same. But..." She looked around; it was midday on a late January day, so the main road was clear of carriages or wagons, but people still walked about in heavy cloaks to do what business they could before night fell at its early winter time. "I want this city to shine. Maybe it cannot be as bright as Aquleia, but it can only do good to consider the hearts and lives of all the people, not merely the wealthy or titled ones."

"Then do so."

"Yes, I must try to think of ways to encourage it, but it seems I cannot do a thing without Lord Pent's approval."

Sir Nestor raised an eyebrow to this. "You are Countess Reglay."

"So I have been told. I think that it means I must simply do as I am told and bear an heir." She crossed her arms, attempting to will away the deepening frustration she felt - had been feeling as of late. "But Lord Pent is not here, so I must have something else to do to be effective in the meanwhile."

"Patience," Sir Nestor said, his lips flattening into something of a smile. "These things come in time."

"I know, I only..." Louise sighed again. "I thought it meant more to be countess. I thought I could help people, but at every turn I feel as thought I am only a source of frustration for others. I worked on the taxes, same as Lord Pent would. There were errors that I corrected, but I felt that pointing out the errors only annoyed Master Raike and I do not understand why that would be so." Tightening her folded arms as if they were her only form of resistance, she admitted softly, "I wish Lord Pent were here."

Admitting such a thing made her feel weak now, though she had wished it many a time in the past and it had not lowered her to think it then. She knew it was because she was forcing herself to take a more active role, to be an equal to Lord Pent in the castle and county both, but she only embarrassed herself in the end to do so. Were she stronger...but that was a useless thought. She simply missed him dearly, and the external pressures made her heartsickness all the more evocative and real.

"Improving that area would improve your reputation," Sir Nestor suddenly spoke up. "It would give you more leverage as Lady Louise, not just as the captain's wife."

Louise made a considering sound. "But how to go about it? It would require a lot of capital..."

_Oh, I am so silly! That is the easiest part!_

"What is it?" Sir Nestor asked, startling Louise and scattering her thoughts. With a huge sweep, she collected enough of them to give him an honest, wide smile.

"Perhaps I am not an impressive noblewoman, but money is something I can secure easily! After all, I still receive an income from my father for my own independent needs. If I can convince him that there is merit to this project, he will surely help. And if this is a good business venture, any profit could be funneled back to start the school Lord Pent so dreams of!" Louise clapped her hands, laughing with more vigor than she had done anything in the days after the taxation records had been finished.

"Lady Louise."

"Ah, yes?" Louise said, turning to Sir Nestor. He gestured with a nod of his head at the people walking by, a good many of them staring in their direction. In a moment Louise was made to understand that she was attracting a good deal of attention in being so delighted with herself. She smiled sheepishly. "Perhaps I will return to my room to draft a letter to my father?"

Sir Nestor nodded, a small smile on his face. "Good idea."

-Eight-

The mage division of the Etrurian army was the smallest of the three main divisions, although it was also considered the most technical of them as well. The mage general had no loss of respect when compared to the knight or great generals, and there was a degree of egalitarianism that did not exist in the other two divisions. There had even been a few female mage generals in Etruria's illustrious history of declaring war upon others and having war waged upon it; there would never be a female great general for obvious reasons, nor had there ever been a female knight general (although one had been lieutenant-general under one knight general before being demoted by the next for her threat to his power). Among the smaller divisions, such as the archery and halberdiers, it was a little easier for a woman to distinguish herself, though even their generals, by and large, were mostly male. Perhaps the only lesson Pent could take out of this was that, if one were a woman who was skilled in the melee arts, it may be better to go to Bern or Ilia for advancement - though both had their own unique problems.

In the mage division, there were four commanders; under them were two sub-commanders apiece, who each had orders over ten regulars. With the suggestions given to him by the other commanders, Pent had decided on one male and female sub-commander: a son of one of Aquleia's Royal Palace Knights called Jeric, and a woman of mixed Missuri and Ilian blood named Tameka. The twenty regulars split from the other divisions were a healthy mix of experienced and inexperienced mages, mostly from the gentry and common families, and slightly favored men over women by two. They were all tested and deemed ready, and their morale was high because, as one young academy graduate answered, "We're serving under the command of the leader of the 'Reglay 45'! I liked Commander Lena, but it's exciting to know that we'll be fighting alongside a hero."

The only one who was untested, Pent felt, was himself.

A snowstorm had blanketed their borrowed training grounds with a fresh layer of thick snow, but the lieutenant-general insisted they not lose another day out of the nine they had left before the scheduled end. Pent supposed she could sense the lack of energy in the air by the end of their normal exercises, because she then did something very interesting.

"All commanders to me."

"Oh, no no no," Pent could hear Corwyn mumbling under his breath. The regulars suddenly seemed more lively. The contrasting moods of these two events did not form a good conclusion in Pent's mind, but he elected to wait and see. All four commanders stood in a line in front of her, at the ready.

"We'll do this by rank," the lieutenant-general said. Then, she smiled. "Commander Corwyn, I challenge you. Do you accept?"

Corwyn looked like he wanted nothing better than to return to the castle. "I accept, ma'am. Please don't aim for my hair this time."

"Then dodge better," she retorted, gesturing to the other commanders to move away before taking out her tome from where she kept it strapped to her hip; Corwyn did the same with extreme reluctance, if his slow movement meant anything. They both shifted into starting positions for casting. Everyone was silent, everything was silent.

Then, they moved.

The lieutenant-general ran to the left, dustings of snow flying from her heels as she yelled a trigger word, sending a simple Fire spell screaming towards Corwyn with deadly accuracy. He narrowly sidestepped, the shoulder of his red uniform black with char. Using magical sight, Pent could See that Corwyn's natural resistance had saved him from being injured that time, but that it was not strong enough against the lieutenant-general's magical might. Corwyn cast a return volley of Fire, but the lieutenant-general, who was running at him, ducked the spell without slowing. Another Fire spell from Corwyn revealed an unusual action by the lieutenant-general; she pivoted, then ran parallel to Corwyn's position rather than continue her charge. Her second spell flew, not towards his upper body this time, but at his legs.

Corwyn cursed as he stumbled backwards, unable to get away from the fireball before it collided against his boots. Pent winced in sympathy; the spell may not have set his boots on fire, but stiff leather was not adequate protection against fire in any standard. Crouching, Corwyn's face was an image of pain as he gritted his teeth, unable to do anything as the lieutenant-general approached him, tome in one hand, her casting hand pointing at his head.

"Do you yield?" she asked. Corwyn dropped his head, bowing to her.

"I yield."

"Fine. Commander Lena, I challenge you. Do you accept?"

Lena, Pent had noticed, was a tiny, quiet woman who, with her nearly white-blond hair and pale skin, seemed that much more pale and ethereal in her light blue uniform, complete with a long split-skirt over her trousers. "Of course, Lieutenant-General Jacqueline. I am honored." She pulled out a Thunder tome as Corwyn limped out of the way and found a log to sit on, taking off his boots and applying liberal amounts of snow to his burns. Next to Pent, Viktor shook his head minutely.

"It's like she's a ghost. How do you fight a moving target in snow?"

Before Pent could ask for further clarification, the battle began. Lena was brimming with a magical power that exceeded even the lieutenant-general's, but her first Thunder spell missed; she was not given the time to cast a second before the lieutenant-general was already upon her. With a wry smile, Lena yielded and walked off to join her own division, who cheered her arrival. The lieutenant-general merely pointed at Viktor, who shrugged and walked forward. He had resistance enough to withstand the lieutenant-general's magical barrage, but he simply couldn't compete with her speed. His black uniform was burnt through and smoking after he yielded, but his stoic face did not express any pain as it did his disappointment.

It hardly seemed like even half an hour had passed by since these magical duels began, and Pent was chagrined to find himself the last one available for the lieutenant-general's attentions. She hardly looked pleased either; it seemed this annual tradition was not convincing her of her commanding officers' skills. "Well then," she said, looking straight at Pent, "you have quite the reputation. I wonder if it is well-earned? Let me encourage your best. If you do not impress me, I will remove your special dispensation. You would hardly need the distraction if you perform below expectations."

Displeased and fighting to hide it, Pent nodded. "Then I will impress you." Behind him, the regulars went silent. He stepped forward, watching her as he stood a distance away, not bothering to get into a casting pose as the other commanders had done. In the midst of war, such things were unnecessary, and his experience was not to stand and cast, but to move. In that way, he supposed he was similar to the lieutenant-general, although she was much faster and the snow hardly hindered her. He had never experienced training in the snow before this, but he thought that could be adjusted for in this battle.

When the lieutenant-general moved, it was to the left, as she always did; Pent had noticed she preferred to not run against her casting arm - wind resistance or a simple quirk, he couldn't guess. But that was fine, because he also cast with his right hand. When she ran and cast, he was running in the same direction she was, causing her spell to miss him by a wide margin. There was confusion on her face for a single moment, and he could understand why: the other commanders did not move unless it was to dodge.

Pent had long understood one simple rule from his lessons at chess with his grandfather: he did not have to be faster or stronger than his opponent, he merely had to be able to predict their actions and respond accordingly.

He could hear his division begin to cheer for him after he dodged her next attack; he saw the grim line of her lips as she changed direction and charged at him. Deciding to replicate one of her earlier moves, he sent a Fire spell hurtling towards her legs. She stopped when it hit her, though its effect was minimal besides her burned knees. The division was much louder in their appreciation of the duel now. It was nice, Pent thought, though he knew he couldn't win a battle of attrition against the lieutenant-general; he was tiring too fast due to the snow, and he wasn't strong enough to overcome her resistance to spells. However, he couldn't simply yield.

He couldn't disappoint his wife, now could he?

Pushing himself to ignore the burning strain in his legs, he charged towards the lieutenant-general. She reacted with a Fire spell aimed at his face, which he dodged by leaning to the right as he kept running. Right after he ran past her, he pivoted and slung a spell at her back - a common maneuver he often had executed on the Western Isles against the slower axe-using fighters that was the bulk of their resistance against Etruria's colonial claims. This time it did not fail him, though she was fast enough to have mostly turned by the time the spell hit her, scalding her lower abdomen and searing away much of the dark red cut coat, though her skin underneath was reddened but not burned. A flash of anger flared on her face, the most emotive he had ever seen her, and then she moved.

Pent expected a spell capable of making it very difficult to get back to the castle under his own power. Instead, she moved within melee range and before he could react, she kicked him in the shin. He instinctively leaned forward at the explosion of pain erupting from his leg, only to find himself clouted in the head by the spine of her tome. When his vision returned, he was on his back in the snow, the image of the lieutenant-general standing above him somewhat hazy.

"I thought we were mages?" he said, though his words sounded somewhat indistinct to himself.

"It's because we're mages that we have to be versatile," she informed him as she pointed down at him, her tome raised high in the air in her other hand. "If you weren't so weak, I might have been more impressed."

"...But you are impressed?"

"My decision to recruit you was the right one, it seems."

"...So you're impressed with yourself."

She seemed to smile. "Is that how you talk to your commanding officer? Well, you're not wrong. I will allow you your wife. You're reckless enough to deserve her protection."

Pent closed his eyes. "Dueling you is a reckless proposition in itself. I will merely do what I can to survive, and perhaps even win." When he opened his eyes again, he found her still standing next to him, offering her hand to him. He did not resist taking it, as he still felt out-of-sorts, and when he was standing she shook his hand twice before letting go.

"Commander Pent, welcome to the mage division of the Etrurian Army. I know you will be a necessary component of it. I am looking forward to seeing how you grow as my subordinate." The lieutenant-general smiled, not in the affectionate, sweet manner that was Louise's trademark, but more forthright, more fierce. He could not return the same qualities in his own smile, but it was a sincere one.

"Thank you, Lieutenant-General. I am looking forward to it as well."

-Nine-

Louise awoke, swimming in the shadows of her sleep-dazed mind. She did not understand why she was awake as she laid in their large bed, no, not until she heard the soft click of the door being opened. Still, she was disoriented and made no movement at all until she lazily worked through all the possibilities of another in the bedroom she shared with her husband and found only one that made sense at the late hour - the possibility that she had been longing for since December. Turning on her side, she called out in a soft, faintly hoarse voice, "Lord Pent?"

"Oh, Louise. I'd hoped not to wake you." It was his voice, lovely and low as he spoke quietly, the night-drenched image of him achingly familiar as he sat down next to her on the bed. With a strength she did not realize she possessed, she sat up just enough to hold him tightly, her cheek pressed against his chest and the stiff material of his uniform. The feeling of his arms embracing her was better than any lonely dream she'd had in the time he was away.

"Lord Pent, I missed you so," she mumbled, ready to doze again now that he was here. She could hear his chuckle as much as feel it reverberate through his chest.

"I missed you too, but you can't fall asleep on me before I've changed."

She held him tighter, aware that she was playing the part of the spoiled child to the hilt and yet not able to care, but Lord Pent was no parent seeking to admonish her for not obeying him. If anything, he seemed to indulge in this interlude, caressing her long, loose hair in long, lazy strokes. After so long, he leaned his head close to hers. "Are you asleep?" he asked, notes of amusement in his voice.

Lifting her head, Louise whispered, "No," and he answered that with a slow, lingering kiss that made her feel languid and warm.

"I missed you so much," he said when they parted. "I have so much to tell you."

"I as well," she replied, soothed by his presence to the point where she felt as though she were drifting in a state that was neither quite awake nor quite in a slumber. "Mm, but I am a little sleepy..."

"More than a little, I see," he noted in his familiar teasing way. "Go back to sleep. I'll join you in a minute."

Smiling, Louise allowed him to restore her to her place on their bed, blankets piled on her as he did as he said. She was asleep again before he returned, though she did not remember dreaming by the time she woke up the next morning in his arms.

What need of dreams did she have when she had this?

-end-

Just as in _bouquet_, some of the stories will be very long, though I hope you don't find them boring! There will be one complete story that might even hit 20K words, and another 3-part story that will be the longest under one theme...and some will be just a single scene long, like the next story. Either way, I hope they are all enjoyable to you. Please let me know what you think about this theme and the serial in general, and the next theme will be released on 2/1!

#10?: Ten is not a very easy theme to be subtle about. The actual in-story reason is that Pent is gone for ten weeks, from the first week of December to the second week of February, assuming Elibe's week and year system is identical to ours. Pesky reality.

High and low nobility: Generally, titled noble houses - those part of the peerage - would be considered highborn nobility, but in this Etruria things are more complicated. Here, dukes and counts and all their children are automatically highborn, but with viscounts and barons it depends on their wealth and prestige. Viscount Possa is a lord who is in a low-production area and is too far from Aquleia to command much prestige, hence he is considered lower than someone like the former Baron Tilley, who controlled highly valued production and land in Reglay, a county much closer to Aquleia and which has many luxury exports created there. Also, all non-inheriting children of viscounts and barons, who would be referred to as 'The Honorable' rather than a lord or lady in real life, are automatically low nobility; Corwyn is an example as a third son. Baronets and esquires are always low nobility no matter how much wealth is tied to their name. Louise's father is an esquire, so Louise is part of the low nobility, even though his wealth and control of agriculture makes him richer than even most highborn nobility.

Average stats I: Pent as a ?/6 Sage is very, very comparable to Erk as a 20/6 Sage statwise, though I have to admit I've never gotten an Erk as good as Pent. Of course, since in-game Pent is a prepromote his potential is depressed in comparison with Erk's growth rates, and worse yet Pent's own growth rates are extremely balanced against his base stats, so it's hard to tell what he would naturally excel in. In terms of this serial, I'll say that his strength isn't so much in his stats or growth rates, but the speed of his anima/staff rank ups. A-rank in staves at ?/6? Mage general Cecilia in FE6 has a C-rank in staves, and she's a valkyrie prepromote!

Average stats II: Out of the commanders, Corwyn's focus is in skill and defense, Lena's in magic and luck, and Viktor's in HP and resistance. They're all prepromotes, and the sort of mage units who blast you with Bolting or status effects; that's why they don't move. Jacqueline is not a sage, but she's already hit 20 for some time now; her focus is on speed, resistance, and magic.


	5. 08 - our own world

garden

(C) Intelligent Studios and Nintendo

-0-

05. Sea of Gold

(#8. our own world)

Louise was preparing for the day by performing her toilet when there was a knock at the door to her dressing room. The pleasurable and nice feeling of Sophie's deft fingers twining an elaborate braid against her scalp stopped at the sound. "Oh, who could that be?" Sophie asked, her bright voice even more lightened with curiosity. "It's still before you take your breakfast."

"Louise?" said a muffled voice. Louise could only blink in surprise.

"Lord Pent?"

It seemed he had not heard the questioning tone in which she had said his name, for soon he had the door open and had even taken a bold step into her room before he came to an abrupt stop. She only needed to take a look at the grand silver-set mirror of her bureau to understand why; other than her chemise and pale pink corset, high-cut undergarments and raspberry-red silk stockings rolled up and tied high on her thighs, she wore nothing at all. She had never permitted him to see her in such a state of _déshabillé_ and he had never expressed interest in watching her dress, so she was torn between a deep embarrassment to be seen in such a way and a fighting need to get on as if this was perfectly normal between them. It did not help that he had never come to bed last night, so to see him now rather than later at his office was quite odd. He was not known for waking early unless it were direly important.

Lord Pent was looking at her, but he did not say anything for a disconcerting length of time. Finally, he nodded. "I like it. Shall we go?"

Behind her, Louise could hear Sophie madly fighting to keep from laughing and thought it was best not to react to his teasing. "Lord Pent, I'll be happy to join you, but first I need to finish dressing," she answered with a bit of primness. "Are we going far?"

There was a bit of a wicked smile on his face. "We're going on an adventure, just the two of us."

"Oh." Louise thought about it for a moment, then she returned her gaze to him. "Should I ready my bow?"

"No, we're not going anywhere so dangerous," he said. "Just dress comfortably. We will be walking a distance."

Louise smiled, a bit excited to get out of her normal routine and moreso to be traveling alongside her dear Lord Pent. "Then, I will be with you shortly. I think I have the perfect outfit for our trip!"

"All right, I'll wait," he said, and did not move from where he stood. Oh, sometimes Lord Pent could be so strange!

"Mm...Lord Pent, if you could wait outside...?"

He smiled at her in that exasperating manner of his. "As you like," he said in an obliging manner before stepping back outside and closing the door behind him. Behind her, it seemed as though Sophie had lost the fight against her insistent tickle of laughter and giggled. There was not much more time to do more than that, and Louise hurried into one of the traveling outfits she was especially pleased with when it was prepared for her wedding trousseau, an outfit she unfortunately had no use for in her current sedentary life. It consisted of a short white muslin dress with layers of ruffles that fluttered above her knees, which were still covered with her silk stockings, and a boiled wool rose pink coat with bellflower sleeves that ended just after her elbows, created for added ease when she was shooting. With short dark brown leather boots and a small gold hoop bracelet rather than the gloves she was accustomed to wearing for the sake of delicacy, her hair bound in a braid that coiled round and round her head before being pinned into place and only some fringe allowed to be loose, she felt she looked like the girl she had been in Alloway more than the woman she must be in Reglay and she had to admit - it was much more freeing to be herself.

Lord Pent was waiting outside her room when she departed with a cheerful wave to an equally happy Sophie, and his normally pleasant neutral expression was quickly replaced with an open, boyish smile as he took in the image she made. "Amazing," he said with a hush, reaching for her hand, his fingers entwining with hers. "You look perfect."

Giggling, Louise covered her mouth with her free hand. "I do so love to travel. My traveling clothes are so much more comfortable than my dresses any day!"

He smiled wider as they began to walk. "Then we'll have to travel, won't we? Missur, Lycia...which of these places should we venture to first, Louise?"

"Oh, I can't decide!" she chirped, a thrill of excitement rushing through her at the thought. "But we must also go further, if it can be helped. I am reading an adventurer's journal of his exploration of Sacae, and it is so very romantic. To be able to ride a horse through the short grasses of the plains and to converse with the nomads, who he says hardly talk but say plenty through their actions, sounds like another world from Etruria."

"The nomads sound like Nestor. All right, we'll add Sacae to the list. And relations between us and Bern are still cool, but I must admit that it sounds fascinating to experience their mountains. The nature spirits there must be quite different."

"We'll have to do that, too! How lucky we are to be blessed to live in such varied lands. I would even like to travel to Ilia's snowy lands, if we can manage it during the summer."

They had reached the castle foyer, and when the footmen had opened the doors Louise found there was a carriage waiting for them. "Oh? I thought we were to walk?" she remembered out loud as she looked up to her husband. He did not quite meet her eyes as he let go of her hand.

"There will be time for that later. But first..." From his coat pocket he removed a long length of white cloth that seemed to shimmer in the bright May sun. "You might find this somewhat strange a request, but the exact location must be kept secret for now."

She stared at the cloth between his hands. "You wish to bind me, Lord Pent?"

"It...sounds strange when you say it like that."

"It is a strange request."

A tinge of color appeared along his cheeks - stranger still, for Louise had noticed he rarely colored so, even when he was truly embarrassed. "I'm aware I'm putting you into an odd position, but I had hoped you could trust me -"

"Oh, Lord Pent," she said, placing her hands on his. "I trust you with my life."

Emotion, deep and unfathomable, seemed to flicker across his face for the briefest of moments, before he nodded. "Close your eyes, Louise." She did so, and after a brief pause, she heard him approach her and felt the cloth - silk, it was so soft - first brush, then fully cover her eyes. There was the sound of him shuffling to move behind her to tie off the length of silk, then she heard him return to her front. It was a strange thing to rely solely on her hearing to convey to her all the details of the world, but her hearing seemed to sharpen in response.

Lord Pent still stood in front of her, but she did not reach for him. Instead, she raised her chin to the height she would normally to look him in the face. "All right," she said with a smile. "Where now?"

She heard him laugh lowly, felt his hand grasp hers as he began to lead her. "First, the carriage. Here, I'll help you in." With one hand on the small of her back and the other holding her hand, murmuring little commands that were more encouragements than anything else, she found herself inside the carriage in due time. The plush seat dipped when Lord Pent moved to sit beside her, and once the door was closed there was only a short pause before a whinny from the horses signaled their departure. Louise sat calmly, her hands in her lap; all was darkness, but the bumps of the road told her that they were moving along the castle city's main road. The driver occasionally yelled warnings to the crowds of people shopping at the vegetable and fruit markets along the street, and there were little jerks to the movement of the carriage as it stopped in full to make way for people. It was almost disappointing when they had cleared the walls and were out into the Reglay countryside, for it was too quiet except for the rumbling of the steel carriage wheels as they churned through the dirt roads.

"Louise," said Lord Pent to her left, "you can lean on me if you feel like it. The ride will take some time."

She tilted her head in his direction and smiled. "I won't. I'll get too comfortable."

"There's hardly anything wrong with that." Her husband sounded amused. "Unless you do harbor some mistrust of me now?"

"It's a new world this way, without my sight. My hearing is sharper. Perhaps my sense of touch too. You might overwhelm me," she said with a giggle. She heard him laugh too, though he did not reach out for her like he might have had she lacked the blindfold.

"I'll only overwhelm you with your permission, of course. Are you still excited?"

"Yes, greatly. It is so nice to travel with you during the day, and away from the castle at that."

"Are you..." He seemed to pause, as if reluctant, and when he spoke again his tone was decidedly more serious. "How have you enjoyed the castle so far, Louise? Is anything lacking?"

If she did not have a length of silk covering her eyes, Louise knew her very first response would be to hurry to spare his feelings, because she would be able to see his face, catch any glimmer of feeling that was not present in his words, his voice, and she would not be able to stand it were he disappointed. He would turn that inward, though he would take care not to reveal that process to her. She was aware of his displeasure when she had been made to tell him the truth of why she did not purchase a winter wardrobe - Lord Pent being quite fastidious when it came to checking the castle expenses - but he had not turned an ounce of it towards her, nor had he sought retribution against the dressmaker in any way. That was not Lord Pent's way, of course she knew that, for he knew too well as a lord and count that he could not command people's hearts to bend to him, and that furthermore it would harm his reputation to involve himself too much into his wife's affairs. Instead, it had only made him disappointed in his own people, and more cautious and watchful besides. Ultimately, Lord Pent was still pleasant, but trusted less easily.

But with the blindfold she felt more quiet and cautious herself, imagining pitfalls both in the physical and spiritual realms. So she did think longer to speak, and when she did it was her own words and not the ones that would be a balm to her husband's mind and heart. "I never thought it would be easy for me to ascend as Countess Reglay. There are many challenges. However, I must face them as I am now."

"Alone?"

She paused. "I'm sorry, Lord Pent."

The sound of his sigh was that of a weariness she had never been able to see in his face, in the movements of his body; it opened a new world to what she knew of her husband, and it was humbling to know there was so much she did not know yet. "It is lonely, isn't it? My position makes it so that I am said to have great power, and yet I see everyday the things I cannot easily change by my own will alone. Sometimes I feel as though I am destined to fail, though people are unrelenting in their praises of me. When you showed me that part of the castle city, I was speechless. It is so close to the castle, yet it has been allowed to rot away for who knows how long. I am led to see what others deem I must, and the rest of it might as well turn to ash. And worse yet, even if I had not loaned that money to my uncle, I still would have to fight with Raike to invest it in that part of the castle city. We argue enough as is without the money."

"I don't understand," Louise said, though she felt a flicker of it within her chest. "I will do my part. It's what I decided I would do."

"Well, he's not very happy about that, either. He says it isn't a worthwhile expenditure, and he's worried about the legality of you investing your father's money into the area."

"It is legal. I read all the royal codes and I wrote to Uncle Aramis for his advice."

"What did he say?"

"Mm...that it is fine, because I am now a citizen of Reglay. Also, we do not stop Bernese citizens from investing in Etrurian land any more than we stop ourselves from investing in the Lycian cantons." There were also some choice words about anyone who would complain about improving the meanest of human lives, but Louise thought it would be best not to share that.

"You've written your father too. Has he decided what he would like to do?"

"Father said that he was more worried about the villages on the border of Reglay County."

The sigh that escaped Lord Pent now was distinctly that of frustration. "I don't disagree, but the Reglay barons and viscounts tend to be very possessive of villages near their manors because of tax revenue. If I try to intervene in how their villages are cared for, I will shore up resentment and if anything makes my situation precarious then they'll band together again. His Majesty doesn't need a new reason to wonder at Reglay's management."

Louise didn't agree with her husband's viewpoint, but she understood his reluctance well - too well, at that. "At least the castle city is under your jurisdiction first, so if the improvements go well there then your influence will be so much the better for projects outside of it. Father's priorities are different from yours because Alloway is so different in its makeup. He's still uncertain why people would live in a castle city when the countryside is far more healthy."

"I'm grateful for any help he is willing to send." But Lord Pent still sounded tired. Louise clasped her hands, as if it could stifle the hurt she felt in her heart. What more could she do for him? She too felt that it was not acceptable to interfere, because she was merely countess and that was not what good countesses did. They were to make friends with the other nobles of their region and beyond, so that their networks could do their husbands some good when he called for help; otherwise, she was not to intervene or act under her own judgment. Good countesses bore heirs and spares immediately, and then left their husbands alone to do what he liked. Good countesses did not make their husbands suffer their presences any more than necessary, not in the daytime and not in the nighttime.

Louise had always been raised to be a good, decent girl, to follow the lessons of Saint Elimine and to live in this world with the light of the saint illuminating her heart and mind. These things were more important than the lessons she was being taught now, she knew this, but how could she respond thus? How could she be a good countess of her own making and still have enough influence to help Lord Pent?

"Louise, don't worry."

She nearly gasped - could Lord Pent read her mind? "What?"

"You're doing that thing you do with your hands when you're worried."

"How did you know?"

There was a pause. "You've been doing it a lot lately. But you must calm yourself. We will be fine."

Lord Pent's assertion aside, they spent the rest of the ride in silence. Louise did not dislike this, for the mood had changed too much to talk of lighter subjects. The darkness and the slight, monotonous rocking of the carriage lulled her into a half-waking doze, and it was not until she felt his hand on her shoulder that she realized that time had gone by at all. He helped her out of the carriage, then he paused. "Louise, this might be a strange request..."

Louise giggled. "That's fine, Lord Pent. What would you like me to do now?"

"If you don't mind, I'm going to pick you up and carry you there."

"Oh? Will it be all right?"

"Let's see, shall we?" She felt his hands on her, one on her upper back, the other just below her posterior. With a grunt of effort, he lifted her up and held her against his chest, jostling her to get a better hold of her. Hoping not to disrupt his efforts, she tried to put her arm around his neck so that her weight wouldn't be completely in his arms.

"How is it?" she said after a moment.

"I think I should have trained with a sword rather than a tome."

"I'm sorry to weigh so much."

"Believe me, I have the feeling the responsibility lies more with me," he said in a dry tone. "I'd better hurry."

Being lifted and carried did not have the same simple exhilaration it had when she was a child; Louise worried too much that her weight was troubling Lord Pent, she worried that her legs hanging past his arm would destabilize him unnecessarily, and she could feel the strain of his arms at each step. But true to Lord Pent's quiet determination, he continued on with nary a complaint. She did wonder what his face looked like, for all she knew was that there was light, bright light, beyond her blindfold, but to see him suffer was not something she ever wished to see again in her life.

It took some time before Lord Pent stopped. She imagined it was because she was slipping precariously out of his arms, but he did seem completely exhausted. "Here, this is fine," he said, breathing hard as he tipped her so that she could find purchase on the ground with her boots and stand on her own. His breathing was lower than his normal height recommended, so she was reasonably certain he was bent over, trying to regain his strength. With some timidity, she reached out next to her where the breathing was and was rewarded with what felt like his shoulder.

"Are you all right, Lord Pent?" she asked, rubbing his shoulder. He coughed.

"I think I definitely will have to train my body and not just my mind."

"I can teach you exercises for archery, or perhaps Sir Nestor has some ideas?"

Abruptly he rose, her hand sliding down along his back before she pulled away. "I'm not sure my body can handle having such large muscles, unless that is what you like?"

"I-I like you as you are!" she announced, her face now warm. She was certainly not going to consider this any further!

"I do apologize," he said, his tone teasing but with an odd strain to it. "Anyway, I'm going to remove this now. Ready?" She could feel his hands working to undo the tie; it loosened, then was removed. Slowly, Louise opened her eyes, though the sun was so bright she brought a hand up to shield her eyes from it. Yet, the ground too was bright, though it was only when she was able to fully open her eyes that she understood the full meaning behind it.

Yellow. Yellow violets as far as her eyes could see.

She gasped, turning around one way, then another. A sea of yellow violets surrounded them in nearly all directions save where the road and the carriage were. It reminded her so strongly of the Allowellian vale where she and Celia would collect yellow violets to make into tea that the nostalgia was nearly painful. She even remembered telling Lord Pent about it years ago, the first time he had visited her home; she had been newly fifteen then, he seventeen, their engagement not even a year long and still untroubled by the events that would separate them for so long, and now, three years later, there was a field of yellow violets nearly indistinguishable from the fields of her youth.

Turning to him, all she could say was, "You remembered."

"Louise." The smile he was giving her was not merely pleasant, nor teasing, nor even boyish - it was small, delicate, an odd strain around his eyes, and yet it was the most honest and true smile he had ever given her. "I remember everything you tell me."

Nearly delirious with happiness, nevertheless there was a lump in Louise's throat and her eyes were watery. The world was a blur of gold and Lord Pent, and to her at this moment, for so, so long, it was all she really wanted. Instinct ruled over her heart as it so often did, and in the space of a breath she was embracing him with all of her strength and he was holding her just as tightly. Closing her eyes, she felt as though she were surrounded a great and pure feeling, one that reflected her in this moment.

Was this what the word 'fulfillment' defined? Did it truly feel so, so...beyond any feeling she had felt in her eighteen years of life?

"Louise," Lord Pent murmured in her ear, "are you happy?"

She pulled away, curious that she did not hear a teasing tone accompanying such words, as if he could not tell how unbelievably beyond happy she was. To her dismay, there was only curiosity, and perhaps a faint puzzlement the longer she examined his face. Was Lord Pent really so terrible at sensing the emotions of the moment? A fit of pique had her reaching up with her hands behind his head to pull him down into a kiss. He seemed stunned for a moment before he responded in kind, ardently so.

"Well," he exhaled when they parted. "I'm not so sure I'm convinced. Shall we try again?"

She giggled, her head on his chest. "As much as you like. But why did you do all this?"

"Hm...I suppose I was worried you might regret marrying me." Louise lifted her head and glared at him. "No, pardon, I'll rephrase that. I think it must be difficult, and I know you've suffered and have been disrespected. If there was a spell to change it to be easier on you, I would've cast it."

"It's fine," Louise said softly, returning her head to lay on his chest. "I'm stronger than I look. These stings and bites will not hinder me."

He held her even more tightly. "I believe that. Also, it's been a year since we married. I thought it would be nice to do something to celebrate it."

Sniffing, Louise hoped that her eyes would not overflow again. "Lord Pent, you are too wonderful. So, so wonderful..."

"I'm just reflecting your greatness," he teased. "Well, we still have our final destination to reach, so shall we go?"

"Where to now?"

"The summer manor. Our luggage will be there by evening. We might as well start enjoying the summer, right Louise?"

She grinned, getting out of his embrace and taking his arm. "Then we can go hunting again. I'm surprised Master Raike is allowing it, though."

"He said it would be a good idea, actually. He'll still send me important documents when my attention is necessary, but other than that we can relax and plan our next moves." Lord Pent smiled, a warm and sincere one that warmed Louise in turn from her chest outward to see it. "Certainly our first adventure will warrant a great deal of planning, correct?"

Louise laughed. "Yes! Oh, it will be so wonderful and fun! I can't wait!"

-end-

First of all: first year anniversary! This first year was mainly about Pent and Louise trying to fit together and to join new ventures; Pent is doing well enough, countship aside, but what of Louise? This story is the first of many vivid scenes I had in mind from the first rendition of the 30 kisses theme story, so it was an extremely easy one to write.

Now for the important news: this serial is going on hiatus. I have classes full-time and work three jobs, extracurriculars aside. Plus there's Fire Emblem: Awakening coming out in just a few days, which will take up all my free time and probably cause the FE section to be flooded with fics. Put _garden_ on Story Alert; I hope to be back in the summer.


End file.
